Hogan's Heroes: A Demon From Beneath
by Basketballgirl Kaitlin
Summary: When Hogan's plane is shot down coming back from a meeting in London, he is tortured to insanity by the Gestapo and becomes a loyal member of the Third Reich to cope with his mental trauma. It's up to his men to rescue him and bring the Colonel Hogan they all know and love back to them. The question is can they?
1. Chapter 1

**A/N:** Well, it's certainly been awhile since I posted anything on here. Sorry for my sudden disappearance, guys. I have been very depressed and unmotivated this summer to write or post completed stories I have banked in my Google docs. I'm back, though, feeling much better, and hopefully able to post a new chapter once a day. I start college again in two weeks, so we'll see how it goes. This story in particular was quite fun to write, particularly because I love writing Hogan centered stories. I love my Colonel Hogan. :) So, here it is! Hope you guys like it, and PLEASE leave reviews and feedback! I love them! Constructive criticism also encouraged. I love learning new things!

* * *

 **Chapter 1:**

He stood there, looking menacingly at the pictures of Hitler and Gestapo men hanging in his office. His newfounded leader and fellow Nazis made him feel bold and invincible. He had all the power possible. Instead of people torturing _him_ , now he had the pleasure of being the one _causing_ the torture. The years of being the victim had finally ended, and he would now begin his life as the victor of battles.

He was no German, by immediate family anyways. Ancestor wise, he had a bit of German background in him. Part German, part Irish, part English, and a little bit of Italian mixed in there. However, he felt no more loyal to the Fuhrer than any other faithful companion he stood by. He was proud of his position and proud of what he would do to help Germany win the war.

He continued to stare out his office window, contemplating his future plans on defeating the enemy, when a sudden knock came to his door.

"Come in, " he said softly.

The door opened, and Major Wolfgang Hochstetter entered. He saluted his commander and received the same gesture in return.

Hochstetter made his way closer to his newest Gestapo member and gave a friendly smile.

"Colonel, how do you do this evening?" He asked.

"Tired, but alright. And yourself, Major?" The colonel replied.

"Tired, _ja_. I agree. It's been too busy here recently."

"I could not agree more with you, Major."

"You ready for tomorrow night, _Herr Colonel_?"

The man turned to Hochstetter with a sinister grin on his face. He had thick black hair and piercing brown eyes that bore into your soul. It was Colonel Robert E. Hogan!

Hogan chuckled menacingly.

"All in good time, Major. All in good time," he said, with an evil sparkle in his eyes.

"It's time, Hogan," Hochstetter said friendly.

"I suppose you're right, Major." He sighed.

"We will show the enemy that the Third Reich is the superior ones in this world! You and I, Colonel Hogan."

The colonel smiled again and lifted his hand.

" _Heil Hitler_!" He cried.

" _Heil Hitler_!" Hochstetter returned, and left his commanding officer to be with himself and his thoughts.

Once the short major was gone, Hogan walked back to his desk and sat down. He started going through papers, when he was disturbed by memories and thoughts running through his mind. How he got here. What had happened that night. What became of Newkirk, Kinch, Carter, and LeBeau? Klink? His once friends and Allies were now his sworn enemies. He hated his men, he loathed Klink instead of thinking of him as a cowardly German; he was blood thirsty. He wanted revenge. He would get justice for what he had endured thanks to the failure of his men trying to save him.

Hogan pushed his papers aside and kicked his legs up onto his desk. He put his hands on his middle and leaned back in his more than comfy leather chair starting to think to himself. He went back into his mind to how it all started. The once loyal, clever witted, compassionate American officer he once had been and the cunning, malicious, blood sucking Nazi he now was. He closed his eyes, let out a calm breath, and went back to the beginning. The mission that had ended his career as an Allied officer and began his one of being a Gestapo colonel.

* * *

( _Stalag 13, Germany: July 21, 1943_ )

The men of Stalag 13 were all doing their usual summer routine. They were either playing sports, walking around, or socializing with their friends and other prisoners.

Inside barracks two, Sergeant Carter and Corporal Newkirk sat at the table playing a game of gin, Corporal LeBeau was cooking dinner, and Sergeant Kinchloe, Kinch better known as, and Hogan were down in the tunnels having a meeting regarding operation business.

Carter put down a card and turned to look up at his best friend across from him.

"Your turn, buddy," he said.

"I see that, Andrew," Newkirk said, thinking to himself. He had to admit to himself; Carter was doing fairly well in this round. He had to maintain his title as Gin Champ, however. He had now broke a record with how long it had remained with him. Four months now, and Newkirk had not lost a single game. His last record had been two months and twenty seven days. He intended to keep that record for as long as possible and made his next move with careful and tactical thinking.

LeBeau left the stove for a moment to wash the dishes in the sink. He was starting to dry a few of them, when he smelled the strong scent of smoke near by. He sniffed the air a few times and turned around. His eyes nearly fell out of his head seeing the site of his meal on fire and letting a faint stream of black smoke fill the air. The little Frenchman dropped the dish instantly, having it shatter on the floor.

"Fire! Fire!" He cried.

Newkirk and Carter snapped their heads toward their panicking friend and shot to their feet.

"Bloody hell, Louis! What did you do?!" Newkirk exclaimed.

"I don't know! It's never done that before!" LeBeau cried.

"Colonel! Colonel!" Carter shouted.

"Colonel! Colonel! Fire!" Newkirk screamed.

The American officer himself shot out from the tunnel within seconds, saw the scene, and instantly ran outside to grab a bucket of water. He came back shortly afterwards and threw it on top of the stove. The fire simmered and soon nothing but tiny wisps of smoke and black charred food remained.

Newkirk put a hand on his chest and sighed with relief.

"Thank goodness for _you_ , Colonel. Why, the whole entire barracks could have burned down!" Carter remarked.

Once Hogan caught his breath and sat the bucket down on the floor, he walked towards LeBeau and put a friendly hand on his shoulder.

"You alright, LeBeau?" He asked genuinely.

" _Oui, Colonel_. I don't understand. That's never happened before. I _never_ burn food, _never_!"

"Accidents happen sometimes. It wasn't your fault."

The little Frenchman slowly approached the stove and picked up the pan. He lifted what was supposed to be dinner with a wooden spoon and looked at the black charred substance sadly.

"Well...there goes _that_ meal," he said, glum.

"What were you making, buddy?" Carter asked.

"It smelled good there for a while." Newkirk commented.

LeBeau sighed heavily.

"It was supposed to be _sole meunière_."

"Blimey, Louis, what's that mean?" The Englishman responded, irritated.

"It's a traditional French meal! It's fish that's crispy, buttery, and flavorful." The little Frenchman replied, giving the same attitude back. He took his pan and tossed it into the sink holding his anger back.

"It's alright, LeBeau. You didn't mean to burn dinner." Hogan answered kindly. He wrapped an arm around his little friend and gave him a small smile. "You're still the best darn chef I've ever known."

At that point, Kinch appeared from the tunnels and closed the entrance.

"What's going on?" He asked, worried.

"Louis accidentally let dinner burn," Newkirk said softly. He felt bad for getting angry with LeBeau. He knew how hard the little Frenchman took things when his cooking failed in any sort of way.

"It's alright, Louis. We can still have something else for dinner," Carter said.

"I was planning this meal for _months_ , though. Do you know how much strudel I bargained with Schultz to get that fish?!" LeBeau remarked.

"As long as you're making it, Louis, that's all that matters." Kinch answered, smiling.

The little Frenchman gave a faint smile.

" _Merci_ , Kinch," he said softly.

Hogan smiled down at his little friend, then back to his second in command.

"Anything new from London, Kinch?" He asked.

"No, just what already came in," he said calmly.

The American officer let out a deep sigh.

"Well, I better start gathering my things then. What time am I leaving again?"

"LEAVING!" LeBeau, Carter, and Newkirk all exclaimed.

"What do you mean 'leaving'?!" LeBeau cried.

"They're getting rid of the Gov'nor, aren't they!" Newkirk hissed.

"Colonel, please don't go!" Carter begged.

Hogan could only laugh and put a hand on his middle to stop himself from bending over onto the ground. Once he collected himself, he shook his head smiling.

"I'm not going anywhere, Carter. London wants to meet with me tonight regarding top security information regarding the Gestapo. All I know so far is that they're planning on building a secret base here somewhere close to camp. They couldn't disclose any further information for safety reasons."

"Top security base, huh," Newkirk said, puzzled. "Wonder what for."

"Does sound a little odd." Carter added.

"What if it's a trap by the filthy bosche? What if they're just luring _mon Colonel_ in just to catch him in the act?" LeBeau suspected.

"Those bleeding Krauts...I'll strangle one of 'em if I get a chance." The Englishman snarled.

"No, no, it's not a trap, LeBeau. Came from General Berkman himself. Kinch was there to witness it," Hogan said, clarifying.

"No trick, guys. It was General Berkman alright." Kinch added.

"You want someone to come along with yah, Sir? Can't quite shake this feeling that something bad's gonna happen tonight." Newkirk worried. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and seemed slightly uneasy.

Hogan smiled friendly.

"I'll be alright, Newkirk, but I appreciate the concern. I'll be back before Klink even sends Schultz in here for roll call." He answered sincerely.

"Now that yah mention it, I'm getting that feeling, too," Carter said meekly.

" _Moi aussi_ ," LeBeau said, crossing his arms.

"Guys, I'm gonna be alright. I've gone on these kinds of mission before, nothing bad ever happens." Hogan answered, trying to comfort his men. He secretly hid the fact that his men were feeling this way was starting to make him anxious. _He_ was starting to feel like something would go wrong tonight.

"Maybe we're just a bit on the edge." Newkirk proposed.

"We have been a bit jumpy ever since that Gestapo scare we had last week." LeBeau replied.

The week before, Hochstetter had made a surprise visit to Stalag 13 and nearly caught Hogan and his men in the act of running their 'business'. Thankfully, the American colonel had been able to wiggle his men and himself out of it and avoided exposure. Hogan's men had been a bit apprehensive since then, and it would probably take another week for it to die off, too.

"Nothing's going to happen with me and the Gestapo. I promise. Hochstetter and his men are long gone now." Hogan reassured them.

"You sure, Colonel?" Carter asked, worried.

The colonel smiled friendly.

"Yes, Carter. I'm sure."

The young sergeant nodded.

"Well...as long as you say so, Sir."

Hogan nodded, then looked at his watch.

"Well, I should probably go get ready for my meeting tonight. LeBeau, can you just make me a peanut butter sandwich with a glass of milk?"

LeBeau frowned, remembering his failed dinner.

" _Oui, Colonel_ ," he said sadly.

"It's alright, LeBeau. It's not your fault, remember?"

The little Frenchman nodded softly.

"Still hurts, Colonel," he said quietly.

Hogan smiled, patted LeBeau's shoulder friendly, then walked off to his quarters to get ready for his meeting.

Once he was gone, LeBeau walked to the stove to start making another meal for dinner, and Newkirk, Carter, and Kinch sat down at the table in the main area.

"Kinch, you don't have that bad feeling were getting?" Carter asked, sitting down.

"No, I have it. I just didn't wanna bring it up in front of the Colonel. I'm sure it's nothing, guys. You heard him; he's never had an issue on one of these meetings before. Why would tonight be any different?" The staff sergeant replied.

"I don't like it, mate. This has 'warning' written all over it," Newkirk said, grabbing a cigarette out.

"Maybe we should lie and say General Berkman messaged back and called the meeting off." LeBeau suggested.

"You have any idea how mad the Colonel would be if he found out we lied about something as important as this meeting? That's crossing the 'getting kicked off the team' line." Kinch remarked.

"Kinch, he _can't_ go tonight! Something's gonna happen, I know it. I know I'm slow at catching on at a lot of things, but I know my gut feeling, and it's usually not wrong," Carter said strongly.

"I agree with Andrew, mate. Tonight just doesn't feel right." Newkirk chimed in.

"Look, if it makes you guys feel better, I'll have it arranged with General Berkman that we're in communication with the Colonel the entire time he's traveling to and from London. They have radios installed in modern day airplanes now, he'll be able to keep in touch with us on where he is and how far away he is from the secret air base," Kinch said calmly. "But lying to him and saying the meeting's off is not going to fly well with him."

Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau exchanged looks with one another and sighed.

"Alright, Kinch," Carter said softly.

"We can live with that." Newkirk commented.

"I'll get on the radio with the General." Kinch answered, and hurried down into the radio room.

Once he had disappeared from sight, Newkirk let out a heavy sigh and turned to his friends that remained.

"I don't know about you mates, but I for one have this awful feeling that tonight something terrible's gonna happen," he said, slightly anxious.

"I don't know what I find more frightening," LeBeau said, making another round of dinner. "The fact of something happening to _mon Colonel_ , or the fact I have the exact same feeling."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2:**

Hogan stood in front of a mirror in the tunnels adjusting his service uniform. He rubbed his soft belly with his hands trying to make himself look thinner. He had gained quite a bit of weight recently from the lack of exercise and extra food he had been eating. The first thing he promised to do when he got back to camp was going to the recreation center and getting a full workout in. He was not pleased with the idea of getting out of shape. He needed to be as fit as possible as long as the war against the Nazis continued.

Satisfied as much as possible for the moment, he turned to face his men and smiled at them.

"I'm gonna be just fine. I'll be talking to you guys all the way to London and all the way back here. I even have an escort that's flying with me back and forth," he said friendly.

"Colonel...I'm scared. I've never felt like this before." Carter spoke, anxious.

"Nothing's going to happen, Carter. I'm gonna go to London, have my meeting, and come back with the details for that Gestapo base being established. We'll discuss a sabotage method in the morning."

"You promise, _mon Colonel_?" LeBeau asked.

"We don't want anything to happen to yah, sir." Newkirk added in.

Hogan gave a gentle smile. He was honored to have such amazing and loyal men in his command and even greater best friends in his life. He could not have been a luckier man.

"I'll be just fine. When I get back, we'll all celebrate with a cup of coffee." He answered.

All four of Hogan's men nodded.

"Yes, Sir," they said, in unison.

The American officer sighed and looked down at his watch.

"Well, looks like I should start heading out." Hogan grabbed his crush cap and put it on to add the finishing touch to his uniform. "See you guys in a few hours."

"Colonel," Carter said.

Hogan looked back, as he started making his way out.

"Be careful, please."

The commanding officer smirked.

"I will." Hogan waved 'goodbye' and was soon enough gone.

Once out of sight and on his way to the emergency exit, Kinch, Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau all gathered around the radio table and tried to calm their overactive nerves and adrenaline rushing through their blood veins at that moment.

"Oh boy, do I feel anxious about this," Carter said.

"Make that two of us, mate." Newkirk answered, his voice with a hint of being 'on the edge'.

"You heard the Colonel. Everything's gonna be fine," Kinch said, hopeful.

"And what if he's not? What if something awful happens on the way, and he never comes back?" LeBeau asked, snooty.

"Nothing's going to happen. He's gonna get to London, get that information on the Gestapo base, come back, and we'll start planning a sabotage assignment in the morning." The staff sergeant answered calmly. In times such as these, he amazed _himself_ that he was able to keep his cool.

"If something happens to the Gov'nor, I'm never forgiving myself." Newkirk grumbled.

"I don't know _what_ I'll do if something happens to Colonel Hogan. I don't think I'd _wanna_ serve under someone else's command," Carter said meekly. He started fumbling with his fingers as a way to cope with his growing anxiety.

" _None_ of us will, Andrew. That's the problem."

"Colonel Hogan would want us to go on without him if something ever happened to him. He wouldn't wanna see this operation shut down because of our grief," Kinch said softly.

"We must not think like that. Colonel Hogan will come home to us safely, and we will maintain business as usual." LeBeau answered, hoping his optimism would ease his nerves.

" _That's_ the attitude I'm looking for, Louis."

Newkirk and Carter looked at each other, sighed, then nodded.

"Alright, Kinch. I'm trusting you on this one." The Englishman answered, for both of them.

* * *

At around 11:45 that night, Hogan safely landed in London at a secret military base. His escort he flew with on the plane drove him to London Headquarters to meet with General Alfred Berkman, Hogan's commanding officer and long time friend of his. (1)

Both men entered into the front lobby and were greeted by the faces of Berkman himself and two other generals Hogan had never met before. Both of them were middle aged, very thin and muscular, and both had slick dark brown hair greased into place with hair gel. Berkman, the oldest of them all, was heavier, but not near in comparison to General Albert Burkhalter. He had dark silver hair and gray blue eyes. The man was about 54 years at the youngest and had seen a lot in his years. Fought in one world war and now was fighting another one as the man in charge of it all.

Berkman smiled immediately spotting Hogan enter the door. The American officer did the same in return and shook the older man's hand once close enough.

"General, good to see you again," Hogan said sincerely.

Berkman gave the American colonel a quick side hug and patted his shoulder gently.

"Robert, my boy. How's it been in camp life?" The old man asked, grinning from ear to ear.

"Oh, the usual. Keeping my men in check, making sure our assignments are as good as can be..." Hogan stopped and chuckled for a brief moment before continuing. "Driving Klink up the wall."

Berkman laughed at that.

"By God, I wanna meet this Colonel Klink someday. Sounds like a real good guy to mess with."

Both he and Hogan laughed that time. Getting their hellos in, Berkman and Hogan composed themselves and got down to the professional level.

"Colonel Hogan, this is General Mitchell on my right and General Miller on my left."

"Good evening, gentlemen." Hogan greeted.

"'Evening, Colonel," Mitchell said.

"Pleasure to meet you, Colonel Hogan," Miller said.

The escort for Hogan, Frederick, followed from behind and gave the four military officers their space. All four started walking towards an elevator.

"Colonel Hogan, do we have an assignment for you and your men to accomplish." Berkman began. He walked side by side with his protégé. The five men entered the elevator, and Miller pushed the button to go to the third floor of the building.

"Sounds pretty big if you wanted me to fly all the way here from Germany to discuss it." Hogan answered.

"This secret Gestapo base could be the 'making or breaking' of the Germans in this war. If this succeeds, there's no knowing of how many lives will die because of it."

"I'll get 'er done, Sir."

Berkman smiled.

"I thought you would say that," he said friendly.

The elevator opened, and the five men exited and made their way to a conference room. Berkman sat down on the head chair at the end and gestured Hogan to sit down next to him. Miller and Mitchell sat down farther at the table, and Frederick was standing at the door making sure the four military men were not disturbed by any interruptions.

Once everyone was situated in their spots, Berkman dimmed the lights and turned on a projector that displayed blueprints to a building on the screen. It had several floors, about seven total, and had many hallways, rooms, and what looked like labs. The old general rose from his chair and started pointing to the building with a yardstick. Hogan sat at full attention and focused on nothing else but his commanding officer and what he was saying.

"Gentlemen, may I present the Heinrich Himmler building; the most top secret Gestapo base in all of Germany."

Hogan nodded, amazed with the building's design and structure.

"Impressive for the enemy, might I say?" He prodded.

"Yes. Indeed, Colonel." Berkman continued. "It is assumed that the Gestapo base is being disguised as a hospital for wounded German soldiers and/or civilians."

"Which one?"

"That's where the 'Top Secret' comes in. We don't know which one."

"All we are certain in is that it is near your camp stalag back in Germany," Miller said.

"There's about four near camp. Seven if you count the city of Hammelburg." Hogan replied.

"You have an idea on any of the ones we could exclude and narrow our search down a bit, Colonel?" Mitchell asked.

"One," Hogan said. "Hammelburg Memorial. A good friend of mine who works as an underground agent, Dr. Richard Klaussner, works there with several other underground workers trained in medicine. He's helped me and my men through some of our most serious medical cases." (2)

"I'm familiar with Dr. Klaussner. Pure white hair, pale gray blue eyes, around in his 60s', married to his wife Ingrid Klaussner." Berkman replied.

"That's him." Hogan smiled, thinking of his old friend.

"General Mitchell," Berkman said, with authority. "Cross off Hammelburg Memorial Hospital from the list."

"Yes, General," Mitchell said, and quickly made note of it in his pocket notebook.

The old general turned back to Hogan and resumed.

"Colonel Hogan, it is _essential_ that you and your men take out this secret base immediately. A lot of innocent lives could be at stake otherwise." Berkman sighed heavily. "Can you handle it, Papa Bear?"

The colonel in question smiled.

"General, I'm offended you'd ask such a question." He joked.

Berkman smirked and nodded.

"You're quite right, Hogan...just as long as that... _insolent_ Major Hochstetter keeps his nose out of things." Just saying the man's name made the general want to throw up.

Wolfgang Hochstetter, better known as Major Hochstetter, irritated the hell out of Berkman. The man never stopped at anything nor kept his nose out of other people's business. His continuous obsession with Hogan he found repulsing and quite unhealthy. When the war ended, and the Allies won, he wanted to be in the front row and watch the short, hot headed man suffer the punishment for the crimes he and the Germans had committed. Some crimes just simply too inhuman to speak of.

Hogan merely chuckled.

"That man? Keeping his nose out of things? Almost as rare as Klink showing any amount of intelligence."

That made everyone in the briefing room laugh.

Once everyone calmed down, Berkman turned the projector off and the lights back on. He dismissed Mitchell and Miller and made his way towards Hogan once they were gone. Frederick remained standing besides the door and stayed silent.

The old man placed a gentle hand on Hogan's shoulder in a way a father would to his own son.

"Promise me you'll stay safe, Robert. We've almost lost you several times before. I don't want it to be for eternity." He pleaded.

Hogan smiled softly and looked at the general with compassion in his eyes. He and Berkman had the relationship of father and son basically. Berkman had been Hogan's mentor and the very reason he held his command as colonel. He had shown the old man what he was exactly capable of doing for a team under his wing and had him promoted from captain to colonel immediately. Hogan never even, in fact, was promoted to major. He went straight from Captain Hogan to Colonel Hogan. He went to Berkman for advice on military work and personal advice. He would be lost without Berkman's wisdom and kindness. The man was exactly how Hogan wanted to be a commanding officer: smart, firm, but kind and soft towards people and their feelings.

"Don't worry, old man. I'll be careful." He promised.

Berkman smiled softly and patted Hogan's shoulder.

"Good."

After exchanging goodbyes and salutes to one another, Hogan made his way out with Frederick, and the two of them made their way to the secret military air base to go back to Stalag 13.

* * *

Kinch, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau sat around the radio table talking with Hogan on his way home from London.

" _Looks like were flying over German territory now. Should be landing in another 30 minutes._ " Hogan reported.

All four of his men sighed with relief.

"Looks like our worry was for nothing after all," Newkirk said, grinning.

Hogan chuckled.

" _I told you guys I would be alright_."

"What did General Berkman say, Colonel?" LeBeau asked, eager.

" _I'd prefer to wait until I got back to camp. Can't risk someone hacking into our frequency and overhearing the news I have to share. I can tell you this, though; this might be our biggest assignment yet_."

"No pressure, huh," Carter said, smiling bashfully. What his commanding officer had just said sent chills down his spine. Anxiety into his nerves to do well and not fail.

" _Nothing to worry about, Carter. I'm confident in all four of you_." Hogan answered, sensing tension in the young man.

"With the five of us, Sir, those blokes don't stand a _chance_ against us." Newkirk spoke, with confidence.

A sudden sound that resembled an explosion could be heard on Hogan's side of the radio.

"Colonel, are you alright?" Kinch asked, concerned.

" _We've been hit, Colonel_!" A man could be heard shouting nearby. Another voice, more faint, could be heard in the distance, but it was too quiet for any of Hogan's men to make out.

"Colonel, what's happening?" Carter asked, jittery.

" _Looks like our plane's been hit by German artillery_." Hogan answered.

"Are you alright, Colonel?" LeBeau cried.

" _We're fine, LeBeau. Just a little knick is all. It sounded worse than it actually is. More turbulence than usually we'll have is all_."

The four men sighed with relief.

"Thank God for _that_ one," Carter said, happy that the ordeal was over.

It was then another explosion could be heard. Louder. Thicker. Harder this time. It made the radio vibrate slightly from the resonance.

"Colonel, what's happening?" Kinch demanded.

" _Colonel...going down...engine's failing_!" A man screamed. The signal was starting to break up into static.

"Colonel. Colonel Hogan, can you hear us?" Kinch asked, hiding back anxiety in his voice.

" _Kinch_ ," Hogan said, a bit fearful. " _We're...go.i...I'm...gon...ave...New…_ " Hogan's voice was lost in the static, and the sound of a plane going down could be heard.

"Colonel." Kinch repeated.

"Gov'nor, answer us! Can you hear us?" Newkirk worried.

" _I...er...going...Kinch…_ " After another rumble of static, there was complete silence.

Terrified, Kinch started messing with the frequencies to see if he could get Hogan to come back in more clearly. Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter stood in front of their friend crossing their fingers. After messing with the radio a little more, Kinch swallowed a huge lump in his throat and turned to his friends with panic filled in his eyes.

"What's going on, Kinch?" Newkirk ordered.

"Where is he?!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"The line," Kinch said softly. He swallowed again, not wanting to believe it was true. "It's dead."

Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau turned to one another, pale as ghosts, then snapped their heads back to radioman and the radio itself.

"NO!" They screamed.

* * *

(1) General Alfred Berkman is my own character I created for my 'Hogan's Heroes' world. His first appearance is in my story 'Coming Into The Light'.

(2) Dr. Richard Klaussner is my own character that first appeared in my story 'Hogan's Heroes: Finding the Silver Lining'. I have lend him out to be used in other stories, but only with permission. If you wish to use him for a story, please message me and ask for my permission first.


	3. Chapter 3

**A/N:** Warning to all my more sensitive readers. If you cry reading sad scenes like I do, you better have a kleenex on standby. This chapter has some very sad scenes in it and made even me, the author, almost cry in several spots. Lots of hugs in advancement.

* * *

 **Chapter 3:**

Hogan screamed jumping out of the plane and started to fall from the sky. He pulled his line, and his parachute came undone. He sighed with relief now floating safely down to the ground.

"I forgot how much I hated skydiving," he said, to himself. He looked around and scanned the area beneath and around him. It looked familiar to him, but he was not certain on where he was. It was difficult to determine in the moon's dim lightening. Even it being a full moon, it was undetectable to Hogan on how far out he was from camp and how long of a walk was ahead of him. Thoughts about Frederick and the pilot still bothered him, though. He had seen both of them jump out before him, but wondered where they had landed and where they were headed. He said a silent prayer that they were alright and safe.

The American finally felt his feet touch the ground and quickly detached his parachute, rolled it up, and hid it in the bushes he was near. Looking around and making his best judgement, Hogan took off west and started his trek back to camp. He had to get back to his men and let them know he was alright. After cutting out of the frequency as he did, he assumed his men thought the worst had happened than reality. He had to get back and show them he was alive and well.

As he continued, he felt like someone was watching him or following him. He turned his head frequently to the sides of him and behind him to check and make sure. He was starting to wonder why he was so paranoid for some reason. He turned his attention to his surroundings. The forest looked haunted and the trees were almost pitch black. It looked like one of those creepy Halloween pictures people painted. Eerie clouds swept every once and awhile in front of the moon, giving it a more than unsettling feel to the mood. The moon itself was pure white and emanating a faint glow in the gray black sky.

Hogan swallowed a knot growing in his throat and continued walking. He set his mind to only one thought and that was of his men and getting back to them quickly. He quickened his pace and made his walking more determined to get out of wherever it was he was currently located in.

So focused on his destination, he did not notice the three shadows that came out of nowhere and started following Hogan. The colonel stopped at a split in the forest and decided on whether to go left or right. As he debated quietly in his mind, the shadows snuck up behind him and one took the end of his gun and swung it up high in the sky. He slammed it down hard on Hogan's head, and the American gave a quick moan, then collapsed unconscious onto the forest floor.

Hovering over his body, three Gestapo officers, a major and two captains, gawked down at Hogan and frowned at their subject.

"Another American," One of the captains said.

"How many is this now? Seven this week?" The other captain asked.

"Six, if you don't include the one we found dead at the scene."

"What do we do with him?"

"We could kill him."

The major cocked his head to the side slightly and grinned menacingly.

"No," he said. "Let him live. Not everyday we find a colonel."

One of the captains raised an eyebrow suspiciously.

"What do you suppose we do with him then, Major?"

"Bring him back with us to Headquarters. He might be some fun for us." The major held back a chuckle from escaping his mouth.

The two captains turned to one another and grinned wickedly. They knew _exactly_ what the major had in mind.

The major looked down at Hogan's lifeless body again and shook his head.

"Filthy American swine." He murmured. He turned his attention to his men. "Heinz! Dietrich! Grab a hold of him!"

Both captains nodded and with Heinz at Hogan's legs and Dietrich at Hogan's arms and shoulders, they lifted him up and followed the major towards their car. After throwing Hogan's body into the vehicle, Dietrich got in the back with him, Heinz in the passenger side, and the major in the driver's seat. The car's ignition was started, and the three Gestapo officers and American officer vanished into the night.

* * *

Kinch, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau sat at the table in the barracks in complete silence. None of them spoke a word to one another.

Carter was sobbing quietly, and the rest of them had tears streaming down their faces. The loss they felt was the most painful thing they have ever had to endure in this war. In their _lives_ for that matter. Hogan was gone. Their brave and heroic commanding officer, their kind and warm friend was gone. And he had died in the most gruesome way possible. Out of all the ways they had ever thought of dying as a cost to their operation, they had never imagined one of them dying from a plane crash.

"I can't believe he's gone," Newkirk softly said.

"I'll never hear his laugh again." LeBeau whimpered.

Carter cried harder, but remained quiet.

Kinch made his way over to the young sergeant and wrapped an arm around him in attempts to comfort him. Hogan had been basically a father to Carter. Losing someone like that from life, and in such an unexpected manner, it was dreadful to just think about.

"I'm never gonna be able to talk to him again." Carter wept.

The staff sergeant rubbed Carter's back gently.

"Out of all people...out of all the men in the world...why did it have to be _mon Colonel_?" LeBeau croaked.

"I'll _kill_ those bloody bastards that shot down the Gov'nor's plane if it's the last thing I do!" Newkirk hissed. His eyes burned with fire and rage. At that moment, he hated every German in the entire world. He wanted every German to drop dead or grovel at his feet for forgiveness.

"Colonel Hogan would want us to remain humane and carry out the operation just like he did," Kinch said softly. As much as he wanted to do the same thing, he remembered Hogan's kindness and the way he handled the enemy. He was determined to not go so low as to doing or attempting methods that the Gestapo used on their captives. He wanted them to suffer consequences for their actions, but he never wished misery or death on a single one of them. It amazed all of them how Hogan had remained so humane throughout his entire life towards the Germans. He had been a pure, warm hearted man who never should have been involved in such a disgusting, cruel thing called World War II.

"What are we gonna do about Klink?" Carter asked meekly.

Kinch sighed heavily, knowing that they had their camp kommandant still to worry about before they could begin their road to recovery.

"We'll fake a kidnapping. Colonel Hogan was kidnapped during the middle of the night. That way if the Krauts never find him, Klink will still have a perfect no escape record and remain off the hook from being deported to the Russian Front." The new man in command answered.

Carter started crying again.

"Colonel…" He whimpered.

"We will never forget you, _mon Colonel_! We will get a vengeance for you, _mon ami_." LeBeau promised, through his tears.

"Bring him back, God...bring Colonel Hogan back." The young sergeant pleaded softly.

Kinch rubbed Carter's shoulder gently, trying to ease his pain.

"He's safe and in a better place now, Andrew," Kinch said, soothing. "No one can hurt him now."

"Kinch...I'm never gonna talk to him again. I'm never gonna see him again. Who am I gonna go to for advice?"

"I'm here if you need someone, Carter. I'll try to be as helpful as the Colonel was."

The young sergeant shuddered, but nodded.

"How do we prove that Colonel Hogan was kidnapped to Klink?" LeBeau asked, sniffling.

"We'll throw the sheets and blankets down the bottom bunk and leave a ransom note by the pillow. Klink and Schultz find it in the morning, and immediately the Gestapo starts investigating." The staff sergeant answered.

Newkirk wiped his eyes and pulled out a pen and notebook.

"What should I, uh…" He sniffled and wiped his wet eyes again. "What should I write as a...ransom note, Kinch?"

"Write this word for word. Kommandant Wilhelm Klink," Kinch began.

* * *

The first thing Hogan noticed when he started coming back to consciousness, his head was pounding furiously. It felt like someone was smashing his brain with a hammer repeatedly and would not stop until it killed him. He could tell there was a dim light coming from somewhere...wherever he currently was.

He fluttered his eyes open halfway and saw he was staring at a concrete ceiling. He moved his eyes and his head slightly to the left and found that one light-bulb lit the entire room he was in. Hogan moved his eyes downwards and stopped when he saw the door. A black metal door with a window opening with bars. He was definitely in a prison cell...but where?

Putting his hand on his belly to try and stop the nausea he felt, Hogan slowly sat up in his cot he lay on and closed his eyes to stop the spinning. He was certain he had a concussion from whatever whacked him in the head. He looked behind him and saw there was no window to the outside.

 _Well_ , he thought. _Escaping's out of the question_.

Hogan looked at his watch. The time read 5:30. AM? PM? How long had he been unconscious?

He was about to get up and examine the cell, when he heard the lock on his cell door click. Two Gestapo men, a lieutenant and a captain, entered in and saw their captive awake.

"Who...who are you?" Hogan asked, raspy. He just then realized how dry and sore his throat was. What he would not give for a glass of water at that moment.

"Colonel Hogan," the lieutenant said. "I see you have regained consciousness."

"And I ask again. Who are you?" He ordered.

"I am Lieutenant Macher. This is Captain Fritz. We are in charge of you and are to make sure you behave yourself." Macher answered, grinning halfway.

"Where am I?"

"Gestapo Headquarters in Hammelburg. You were found wandering around lost in the forest a few miles from here."

"I would advise you men to take me back to Stalag 13. Kommandant Klink does not handle missing prisoners so nicely."

Macher and Fritz bursted into laughter.

"Kommandant _Klink_! That man couldn't scare a fly!" Fritz cackled.

Hogan winced at the loudness of their laughter. It was giving him a migraine on top of the pounding in his head he had beforehand.

"I demand to be returned to Stalag 13 under the rights of the Geneva Convention for Prisoners of War."

"The Geneva Convention does nothing for you _here_ , Colonel Hogan. Perhaps you should have thought twice before escaping from camp."

Hogan swallowed a sudden growing lump in his throat. He was in Gestapo Headquarters. His men probably assumed he was dead. No one in the underground knew where he was. No one was coming to save him. This was the end for him.

"What are you gonna do to me?" He asked, trying to hide his fear.

" _We_ are not going to do anything to you, Colonel. But someone else will," Fritz said, grinning from ear to ear.

As he tried to figure out what Fritz was trying to say to him, Hogan snapped his attention to the front, when he heard the door creek open again. He swallowed hard and tried to keep the anxiety he felt from expressing on his face.

In the doorway, standing there and smiling demonically, was Major Wolfgang Hochstetter. His eyes looked almost completely black and void of any empathy towards another human being. Hochstetter had finally won, and he was going to make sure Hogan knew that very clearly.

 _Oh, God no_ , Hogan trembled in his mind.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter 4:**

"Roll call! Everybody up for roll call! Up, up, up, up, up, up! Wake up!" Schultz bellowed, banging on Newkirk's bunk.

The Englishman moaned.

"Five more minutes, Schultzie, would yah mind?" He groaned.

"No! Everybody up! Kommandant Klink's orders!" The large sergeant ordered.

"You're just real nice in the morning, aren't yah, Schultz," Kinch said, sitting up in bed.

"Jolly joker!"

Schultz made his way out of the barracks to let the men get ready.

Carter slowly got up and rubbed his eyes. They were still red and puffy from crying all night.

LeBeau sat at the table staring blankly at nothing. He fumbled with a playing card in his hand and sat in silence, remembering his beloved commanding officer and dear friend who had been lost not even six hours ago.

Kinch looked at both of them briefly with empathy, then he turned his attention towards the Englishman.

"You ready, Newkirk?" He asked, tired.

"As ready as I _can_ be." He answered, slightly monotone.

Newkirk jumped down from his bunk, grabbed the folded note he kept under his pillow during the night, and collected himself before beginning. He felt the pang in his chest intensify remembering why he was doing this assignment. He closed his eyes and fought back from breaking down. Turning his head to the ceiling, Newkirk clenched his eyes closed and let out a shaky breath.

"This one's for you, Gov'nor." He barely croaked.

After letting out another shaky breath, Newkirk opened his eyes and ran out of the barracks in a panic.

"Schultz! Kommandant! Help! He's gone!" He cried, running towards Klink's office. Schultz turned and stopped him.

"Who? _Who's_ gone?" The large sergeant asked roughly.

"Colonel Hogan, he's gone! He's been kidnapped!" Newkirk wailed.

"G,g... _gone_?" Schultz gasped.

"He's gone, Schultz! Gone!"

"Oh, what do I tell the Kommandant? He's going to be very angry!"

The two of them heard a door slam, and Klink stormed down the stairs over to them.

"What's going on out here?! You know I hate to be disturbed in the morning until after I've had my coffee!" The German colonel yelled.

" _Herr Kommandant_ , I...I,"

"What, Schultz? Spit it out!"

"Kommandant, Colonel Hogan's gone, Sir." Newkirk reported.

"WHAT?!" Klink hollered.

"He got kidnapped during the night. We woke up this morning, and he was gone."

"And just _how_ did this 'kidnapper' get in and out of camp undetected, Corporal Newkirk? Escaping maybe?"

"How the bloody hell do _I_ know? I was asleep! All we found is the Gov'nor's bed unmade and this note."

Klink ripped the note from Newkirk's hand and read it out loud.

" _Kommandant Wilhelm Klink, you have 72 hours to come up with and hand over 7400 German marks, or you will find Colonel Hogan hung. Signed your worst nightmare_." He shivered. 7400 German marks. Where was he going to come up with 7400 German marks in 72 hours? He did not have that kind of money lying around. He snapped his head to his sergeant of the guard. "Schultz, do a headcount for all barracks! I'm calling Gestapo Headquarters immediately! Guards! Sound the alarms! A prisoner's been kidnapped!"

Sirens began to ring, and German soldiers began running all over the place forming groups.

Klink headed into his office quickly in a panic, Schultz ran off to start headcounts, and Newkirk sulked his way sadly back to barracks two. He closed the door softly behind him and collapsed at the table.

"Good going, Newkirk," Kinch sadly said.

"Thanks, mate," Newkirk said, monotone.

"What do we do now?" LeBeau asked sadly. His tone of voice could express that he was done serving under anyone's command.

"I don't wanna do _anything_ anymore. Not without Colonel Hogan here." Carter answered, depressed.

"The Colonel would not want to see us give up just because he's no longer here to lead us," Kinch said. He had to hold this team together now. He knew his commanding officer was watching from Heaven and would hate to see his operation and team diminish because he was no longer there. It would break his heart to see that happen.

" _How_ , Kinch? We're lost without the Gov'nor here. We don't know how to run this operation ourselves." Newkirk replied, frowning.

"Then we'll have to do what we can from what we learned from Colonel Hogan. Use his methods and strategies to make sure the Germans are defeated and surrender the war."

Carter sniffled.

"I'm sure gonna miss him, boy." He whimpered.

Newkirk stood, made his way to his best friend, and wrapped an arm around Carter's shoulder. The young sergeant irritated the hell out of him sometimes, but he loved the man as if he were his own little brother.

"We're all gonna miss him, mate. There'll never be another Colonel Hogan as long as we live." The Englishman answered softly.

LeBeau wiped at his eyes, though tears continued to fall down his face.

"I think Colonel Hogan deserves a minute of silence in honor and memory of him," Kinch said quietly.

The four of Hogan's men, plus the other ten prisoners residing in the barracks, hung their heads, closed their eyes, and soon the barracks was dead silent. No one spoke a single word for several moments. All of them stood there in silence and remembered their lost friend. The commanding officer they were so proud to have known and served under. They all stood there and mourned over the loss of Colonel Robert Hogan.

* * *

"Kidnapped you say," Gestapo Major Bock said, surprised. The man had been sent to Stalag 13 with two of his men to guard him in charge of the investigation regarding Hogan's kidnapping. He stood before Klink pacing the room while speaking and thinking. (1)

"Yes, _Herr Major_. All I have is this note from the kidnapper. One of my prisoner's found it this morning on Colonel Hogan's bunk." Klink handed Bock the note, whom snatched it quickly from the Luftwaffe colonel. He turned back from the desk and started reading it to himself.

"7400 German marks, huh? Quite a bit of money, wouldn't you say so, Colonel?"

"Indeed, Major Bock. Where does this man think I can scrounge up 7400 German marks in 72 hours? I would have to rob a bank in order to do such a thing!" Klink exclaimed.

"Yes, Klink, you _would_ , wouldn't you?"

"What do we do, Major Bock? What do you suggest?"

"Klink, as of now, whoever kidnapped Colonel Hogan, that man knew how to come into this camp undetected, take Colonel Hogan with him, and escape again with no detection. I want you to double your guards on all perimeters of this camp and groups of my men patrolling the outer edges surrounding it. This man serves as a threat to the production of this camp and other areas near by. He may be planning something more serious than what has happened already."

" _Jawohl_ , Major Bock." Klink turned to his office door. "Schultz!"

The sergeant in calling opened the door and saluted his commanding officer.

"You wanted to see me, _Herr Kommandant_?" He asked.

"Double the guards at all posts. I don't want anyone coming in or out of this camp without my knowledge, understood?" Klink hissed.

" _Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_!"

"Now get out and do your orders!"

Schultz saluted Klink and left the office.

Now by themselves again, Klink turned back to Bock worried.

"You think you can find them, Major?" He asked, with anxiety.

"Klink, I have been doing this job for both the SS and Gestapo for nine years. I have never had one unsuccessful case in my entire career."

"Not _one_?"

"None." Bock kept his eyes fixed on Klink. Not a single movement in his eyes, and it terrified the colonel. He always forgot how intimidating men from the Gestapo and SS were. Every time they came into his camp, it was just as if he were seeing one of them for the very first time all over again. "Whoever this man is, I will find them and your missing prisoner. Colonel Hogan will be returned to Stalag 13 and remain as one of your POWs, and this man will find themselves in _serious_ tribulation."

"How serious?"

" _Dead_ serious."

Klink shivered hearing absolutely no emotion in the major's voice. He sounded almost inhuman.

"Yes, Major Bock." He quivered.

"I shall take my leave and return in the morning with an update on the matter," Bock said, headed towards the door. "Good day, Colonel Klink." Without another word, Bock and his men marched out of the kommandant's office and closed the door behind them.

Klink slouched down in his chair and grabbed the arms of it so tight, his knuckles nearly popped out of his skin. He turned his head towards the heavens and shuddered.

"Please God, let Major Bock find Hogan...who knows _what_ will happen if he doesn't come back." He pleaded.

The thought of what would happen to him, the prisoners, and the camp if Hogan did not come back, and the possibilities that could be as result was enough to make Klink want to scream and cower in terror. In fact, knowing what lied ahead of him possibly was not comforting. It only terrified him more.

* * *

(1) Major Bock was from the episode 'Hot Money'. He was played by Sandy Kenyon and decided to bring him back for this story. I had him transfer from the SS to the Gestapo for the purpose of this plot.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N:** Alright, folks. I have to work tomorrow and not sure how I'll feel afterwards, so I'm posting two chapters in a day. A nice little treat for all you lovely readers and reviewers. Also, reviews are highly encouraged! ;) Happy reading!

* * *

 **Chapter 5:**

It had not even been two hours yet, and Hogan was already wishing he would die. Hochstetter and his men for the longest time now have been kicking him and punching him, and they had not even started interrogating him yet. His legs ached, his arms ached, his belly ached, and his head had such pain he thought he might throw up there in his prison cell.

Sitting on his cot and leaning against the cold cement wall, Hogan clutched his swollen middle with his left hand and tried catching his breath. He was sweating and had a sickly pale color to his skin. He could feel bruises starting to form on his back and legs. His arms had been spared the least. He closed his eyes, grimaced, and moaned softly in pain.

Fritz was about to go in for another whack at it, when Hochstetter held up his hand and stopped him.

"Enough, gentlemen. Now that we've had our warm up, perhaps we can begin the interrogation process, no?" He asked, smiling wickedly.

Hogan looked at the men with mercy in his eyes and licked his chapped lips. If that was just the warm up, God only knew _what_ lay in store for him. He wished Hochstetter would just shoot him now and get it over with. But he had his men. His men needed him and depended on him. He needed to survive, so he could figure out how to escape and get back to them. The question was, though, did they think he was even alive still? Would he believe one of them was alive had the roles been switched? Would he still have hope and be looking for him? It was hard to make that decision with his head pounding so bad. He moaned again meeker and louder than before from all the pain.

"Are you in pain, Hogan?" Hochstetter asked coolly, obviously knowing the answer.

"Whatever made you think that?" Hogan replied, weak. He went back to trying to catch his breath. He started wondering if any damage had been done to his lungs or diaphragm. He felt it beginning to get harder to breathe in air. The best he could do for the moment was uneven, short labored gasps.

Hochstetter paced the room and began questioning. His hands were clasped behind his back, and he paced back and forth across from the door to the window behind Hogan's cot.

"Why were you out in the forest late last night?" He asked, first off.

Hogan stared at him like the major had gone mad. He had been walking around in a forest? It seemed logical, but he could not recall anything after jumping for dear life out of the plane before it crashed. He remembered two other men in the plane, but could not recall their names or faces. Why had he jumped out in the first place? Too many questions and not enough answers were with Hogan, so he gave the most honest answer he could.

"I don't know."

Hochstetter snapped his head towards the American with his glaring, accusing eyes.

"What do you _mean_ 'you don't know'?" He hissed.

"I don't know. I can't remember."

"Liar!"

"Ask me anything about last night. I can't remember a thing thanks to…" he trailed off. What had knocked him out? What had brought him here to Headquarters? Why had he been knocked out at all to begin with? "I don't remember. I only remember waking up in here with this awful migraine I have."

"What _do_ you remember then?"

Hogan sighed. He thought for a moment before coming up with a plausible lie. Maybe it would get him released from Headquarters and back to camp.

"I was attempting an escape from Stalag 13. Apparently, it didn't work out well."

"You were _headed_ in the direction of Stalag 13. Not away from it."

"It was dark. You can't expect me to tell which way's which in the dark."

Fritz kicked Hogan hard in his left ankle, making him cry out in pain and bury his head into the wall more. How much more pain could he take, he wondered.

"Hogan, you're a liar! I _know_ you are hiding something, and I'm going to uncover it once and for all!" Hochstetter snarled.

The man in questioning swallowed a knot down his throat. He was terrified to know what the short man had planned next for this 'interrogation' as he called it.

"What are you gonna do to me?" He asked helplessly. He did not want to show Hochstetter weakness, but the question slipped out of his mouth subconsciously.

"What am I _not_ going to do with you, Hogan? No one knows you're here, and no one _will_ know you are here. I intend to get answers out of you if it means killing you in the process. Now, you can cooperate with the Gestapo, and we will go easy on you...or you can remain tight mouthed, and we'll _pry_ it out of you!" The major hissed.

Hogan shuddered, as another wave of pain went through his body. He was amazed he had not passed out yet from how much he was experiencing already.

"Where are my men?" He trembled.

"I don't know, Hogan. Why don't you _tell_ us where they are?"

"I told you I don't know. I left Stalag 13 to try and escape, and I can't remember anything after that! Kommandant Klink is waiting for my return."

"And Kommandant Klink will be waiting for quite sometime for your return," Hochstetter said. "Very well." He turned to Macher and Fritz. "Gentlemen, bring in my instruments. Looks like our prisoner will be learning the hard way."

Without word, Macher and Fritz left Hochstetter and Hogan to themselves. The short Gestapo major smiled with glee and turned to look at Hogan almost immortally.

"I have waited for this moment for a long while, Hogan. People are finally going to know your _true_ identity... _Papa Bear_."

"I'm not Papa Bear. I'm Colonel Robert Hogan of the United States Army Air Corps. If I had a nickname, it would be much more catchy than the name of some fairy-tale character."

"Give it up, Hogan! I know all about your secret operation. I'm just waiting for you now to admit to your crimes against the Third Reich."

"I don't have a secret operation...I have _no_ idea what you're talking about."

Hochstetter growled.

"If I didn't need you to confess so much, I'd knock you unconscious right now...hopeful the blow would kill you _instantly_!" He snarled.

 _Would you? Please?!_ , Hogan thought to himself. He was _praying_ he would go unconscious at this point. He was not so sure on how much more pain he could handle.

The impenetrable metal door creaked open again, and Macher and Fritz returned rolling a metal cart with a blue cloth on top displaying several medical instruments Hogan had seen used by his dear friend, Dr. Richard Klaussner, before. Most of the time, Klaussner put a person under before using any of those tools on a patient. The colonel had a horrid feeling that this time would not be so.

Knives, injections, scalpels, scissors, razor like blades and more. Weapons of destruction just waiting to be used on him. Hogan realized at that moment why Hochstetter's men had beaten and battered him to death beforehand; so he would not be able to fight them off. He swallowed a huge knot in his throat and tried to hide the panic that filled his eyes.

Hochstetter picked up the scalpel, examined it closely, then turned to his prisoner.

"You've seen one of these before, Hogan?" He asked, still looking at the dangerous instrument.

Hogan started sweating, holding his middle tenderly, and trying desperately to swallow his anxiety.

"Only when I was in an operating room shortly before the surgeon gave me anesthesia. I had an emergency appendectomy," he said, as confident as he could.

Hochstetter merely laughed sinisterly.

"Have you seen one in use while being awake?" He continued.

"...no...I have not." Hogan trembled.

Hochstetter glared at the American and shoved him down on his back. Hogan lay there on the cot staring at the man in horror.

"Macher! Fritz! Hold his arms down!" The short major commanded.

The two Gestapo men without question walked over to Hogan's cot and pinned down his arms tight to the mattress and pillow under his head. Hogan looked up into Hochstetter's eyes and was pleading for mercy within them. Usually the tough skinned American would never display such a thing. Considering the fact that no one knew where he was and if he was even alive, he was _terrified_. There was no one to save him now. No one to hope for. No one coming for him.

Hochstetter seemed to get pleasure from the sight, his dark eyes sparkling like stars. He turned to his men and smiled menacingly.

"Gentlemen, have you ever operated on an American before?" He asked.

The two men turned to look at one another, then back at Hochstetter.

" _Nein, Herr Major_ ," Fritz said.

Macher shook his head 'no'.

"Looks like you two are in for a treat tonight, then," Hochstetter said. He turned back to his victim and snarled at him. "Hogan, you are about to pay for your crimes against the Third Reich once and for all!"

"I told you I don't know anything! I don't know what this operation is that you're speaking of!" Hogan remarked fiercely. He hoped faking it would start to make it a reality. It was his last hope of courage before he broke.

Hochstetter clicked his tongue and shook his head slowly.

"Wrong answer, Colonel," he said. His eyes were completely black and resembled coal. Hochstetter was completely inhuman now. There was not an ounce of empathy or mercy within him.

Hogan started breathing fast, but remained as hardened as possible. He would not let Hochstetter see he was afraid until he could not take it anymore. The question was how long could he last now?

The short major cleaned the scalpel with an alcoholic wipe briefly, then he turned back to Hogan, determined his first target, and slowly began his agony.

* * *

Carter sat at the table that night staring at the wood in front of him. He was despondent and depressed. He could not stop thinking about Hogan. His commanding officer, his best friend, a man who he had looked up to and loved like a father, he would never talk to him again. He would never see him again. He would never hear his vibrant laugh that brought so much life into a room again. There was not anything Carter wanted more than to see Hogan come out from his room one more time, have one of their talks, and have Hogan laughing at the end from something silly or naive he would have said.

The young sergeant lay his head on top of his arms and shed a few tears. He wiped his eyes and went back to living in his thoughts. He knew Hogan would want him to remember the good times they had instead of his loss. What he had done for them and taught them while in his command. The lessons they had learned and the memories that they shared. It would help Carter and the rest of Hogan's team move on and recover from their grief and mourning over him. The American was in Heaven now safe and happy. He was smiling down at his men and protecting them from there. They would always be Hogan's Heroes.

So lost in his thoughts, he did not notice LeBeau and Newkirk come in from outside. They had just finished up a basketball game against Kinch and Olsen. They looked fine, but their eyes held sadness and despair from their loss. The two men noticed Carter and sighed. They knew exactly how he felt currently.

"You can't stop thinking about it either, can yah, mate," Newkirk said sadly.

Carter did not answer. He just continued staring up into space in great depression.

LeBeau shook his head softly.

"It shouldn't have ended this way. He shouldn't have been the one to die." He murmured softly.

"It should've been _me_ in that ruddy plane...not him," Newkirk said.

"No, it should've been _me_!" LeBeau protested.

"The Colonel wouldn't have wanted _any_ of us to die. If he was here, he'd tell us the same thing." Kinch answered, leaning against the pole of Newkirk and Carter's bunk.

" _We're_ replaceable. The Gov'nor wasn't." Newkirk softly spoke.

"There will never be another…" LeBeau stopped, starting to choke on his words. Tears welled in his eyes thinking about Hogan. His kindness, his loyalty, his honesty, cunning mind, safety, the little Frenchman was lost without him. He no longer had a guide to show him the ways of winning the war. All four of them now had to depend on each other. Now that Hogan was gone, everything they had ever entrusted him with was now on themselves.

Newkirk silently made his way towards Carter and sat down besides him. He looked at him with sympathy for a moment, then put an arm around his shoulders like Hogan always did when the young sergeant was upset.

"He's still with us, Andrew. He'll always be with us, mate," he said, comforting.

Carter did not answer. He glanced at Newkirk briefly, then buried his face into his arms and let out a heavy sigh.

"Filthy bosche! I'll _kill_ whoever shot down _mon Colonel's_ plane!" LeBeau proclaimed.

"I'm right there with yah! I say we murder every bloody Kraut there is in distance reach!" Newkirk hissed.

"Colonel Hogan wouldn't want us to kill in cold murder. Payback, yes. Murder, no. He wouldn't want us to stoop to the Krauts' level," Kinch said. He sat down in what used to be Hogan's spot.

"Kinch, those bleedin' bastards _killed_ our Gov'nor. There's _no_ mercy in me this time!" The Englishman snarled.

" _Oui_. Those filthy bosche deserve to _die_ for what they have done!" LeBeau added.

Kinch sighed in frustration. He too wanted to kill the men who had taken Hogan from them. However, the radioman was not about to throw his commanding officer's rules and perspectives away like they meant nothing. He would carry out the operation and being Senior POW officer as Hogan had done while alive. When he got stuck on something, Kinch would always think of how Hogan would handle the situation and what he would do to solve it.

"Look, I wanna kill the bastards, too, but the Colonel was not about cold blooded murder. He hated the idea of taking someone else's life unless it was for self defense only. Revenge, we shall. Murder, we will not." The staff sergeant answered slowly.

LeBeau and Newkirk turned to look at one another, then back at Kinch and sighed in surrender.

"Fine, Kinch. We'll do it your way." Newkirk answered, in surrender.

The radioman nodded, looked down at his watch, and checked the time: 10:30PM. He let out a silent breath and turned to look back at his three friends.

"It's almost 11. We should probably get on headed to bed," he said.

"What's the point?" Carter groaned softly. "I'm just gonna go to sleep, dream about Colonel Hogan, and wake up to a world without him."

Kinch looked at the young sergeant and gave a sad smile.

"Colonel Hogan would want you to get sleep, Andrew. He'd say 'it'll make you feel better'." He answered.

"I _know_ what'll make me feel better…" The young sergeant said, fighting back his emotions. "I want Colonel Hogan back."

Newkirk rubbed his best friend's back, as Carter took a shaky breath in.

"We all want him back, mate...I can't tell you how much I yearn to see him come up from the tunnels and order us to get in our bunks and go to sleep." The Englishman sighed.

"What if we all slept in Colonel Hogan's room tonight? It might make us feel better...have it make us feel more close to him." LeBeau suggested.

The Frenchman, Carter, and Newkirk all looked at Kinch for approval.

Sharing the same sadness in their eyes, the radioman nodded softly.

"Alright. Just tonight, though. Tomorrow, we start planning revenge on those Germans that shot down and killed Colonel Hogan. Carter, you can sleep on the Colonel's bottom bunk. Newkirk, I want you sleeping on top in case he needs you during the night. Louis and I will sleep on the floor," he said.

The four of them got dressed, grabbed their pillows and blankets, and made their way inside the dark room that had once been the quarters of their lost colonel. Carter crawled in on the bottom of Hogan's bunk, and Newkirk lay on top staring at the ceiling. LeBeau slept near the door, and Kinch lay in the middle of the room in between Carter and Hogan's old desk.

As they fell to sleep, all four of Hogan's men stared up at the ceiling lost in their own thoughts. They wondered what would become of the operation. They wondered where Hogan was tonight, what he was doing, if he was nearby watching them, what his last moments of life were like. They would start with thinking of happy memories with Hogan, the laughs they shared during his life, the accomplishments they shared and celebrated with each other, but it was only followed by the darkness of the night he died. The four of them in the tunnel over the radio with him, hearing the plane go down and not being able to do anything to save him. Carter let out soft sobs, tears streamed down LeBeau's face, Newkirk clenched his eyes shut to fight back his emotions and shuddered, and Kinch let out a very heavy, desolate sigh. He closed his eyes and felt his chest start to tighten from emotional pain.

All four men laid there for what felt like an eternity in their grief and heartache. Soon enough, all of them fell into a deep, empty, dreamless sleep.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6:**

It was around 1AM. Gestapo Headquarters was quiet for the night mostly. In the holding cells down in the basement, Hochstetter and his men were still at work with their latest prisoner.

Hogan was near unconsciousness by that point. Hochstetter had used the scalpel to make several incisions on the American's abdomen. Large amounts of blood were all over Hogan's belly and Hochstetter's gloved hands.

"No more." The American gasped, merciful. He had been driven to the point of pleading with Hochstetter's humanity...if such even existed in him somewhere. " _Please_."

"You in pain, Hogan?" The short Gestapo officer grinned wickedly. He already knew the answer, and was pleased with his progress.

The colonel in question fought back urges to scream out in agony and began sweating even more.

"Just a little." He answered, through clenched eyes and teeth.

Hochstetter chuckled with enjoyment. Seeing his arch nemesis suffering for his crimes against Germany was a blessing come true. He would finally get revenge on all the times Hogan had embarrassed him, humiliated him, and sneaked his way out of situations with General Burkhalter and Klink. Well, Klink was easy to persuade if you used his own life as blackmail, but Burkhalter was a head of the German Luftwaffe. One of Hitler's right handed men. Being turned down and mocked by the High Command of Germany was brutal for him, and Hochstetter was tenacious on getting that revenge on Hogan whether it killed the man before he wanted to or not.

Putting down the scalpel on the tray, Hochstetter quickly cleaned Hogan's wounds he had made to prevent infection from happening. He wanted the man alive as long as possible to extract the information he desired out of him.

Hogan gritted his teeth and groaned at the burning sensation the alcohol wipe was causing to wipe out bacteria. He sighed with relief mentally when it was over, but the pain still remained from his open wounds and possible stab injuries to his stomach and/or intestines.

After he had finished cleaning the wounds, Hochstetter took a needle and thread used for medical sutures and turned around to face his prisoner once he had set up his next task. A syringe also laid near by on the tray with a clear bluish liquid in it.

Spotting both of them, Hogan swallowed a knot in his throat before speaking. He did not want to know the answer partly, but the other part was begging to know what was in store for him next.

"What are those?" He asked meekly.

"The injection is pain medicine. It will make you unconscious while I stitch you back up and relieve you from any pain you are currently feeling," Hochstetter said coldly.

Hogan sighed internally. _Thank God_ , he thought to himself. The pain would finally end soon.

"If you answer my questions correctly, I will give you it before I start. If you answer incorrectly, you will stay awake while I do so." The short major continued.

Hogan closed his eyes and held back from crying out. _I knew it was too good to be true_ , he thought.

Hochstetter walked close to the cot and held the needle and thread in his prisoner's eyesight in order to intimidate him and get Hogan to squeal easier. He cocked his head slightly to the side and examined the man quickly. He could sense the tension and anxiety in Hogan's presence. He knew the man was hiding something and trying desperately to keep it within his mind. Happily, to Hochstetter's relief, he was sensing Hogan would not stand much longer.

"Where is your base for your operation located at?" He began.

Hogan's eyes were fixed on the needle and fighting back from shuddering.

"Colonel...Robert Hogan...serial number...O876707." He answered meekly.

"Hogan, you'll answer my question immediately, or you will have _dire_ consequences to suffer from!" Hochstetter hissed.

"Serial number O876707...United States Army Air Corps," was Hogan's response. The fear and horror within him could be heard in his trembling voice.

The Gestapo major was getting frustrated, his complexion turning a slight, rosy, pinkish color.

"I'll give you one more chance, Hogan. _Next_ time, it will not be asking you. Where is your base for your operation's location?" Hochstetter warned. His voice was completely demonic to the American now.

"Kinch...Newkirk...Kommandant." Hogan quivered. _Someone help me, please! Please, God, help me!_ , he started thinking.

"There's no one here to save you _now_ , Hogan. No one is coming for you, so you might as well start talking."

"K...Kommandant...Kinch...O876707…" He was fighting back from shaking, mercy pleading in his voice.

"Hogan, you will never learn, will you?" Hochstetter's eyes grew completely black. The short man no longer looked human. It was like he had been switched with some phantom from Hell sent to wreak terror in this lifetime.

He turned to look at both Macher and Fritz, the same possessed look remained on his face.

"Hold him down. He'll be screeching in agony shortly." Hochstetter ordered.

The two Gestapo men held down Hogan with iron hands and peered into his eyes, fire burning within them.

Hogan looked back at them in terror and started shaking his head.

" _Please...help me_." He tremored.

There was no reaction to either one of Hochstetter's men. They continued to look down at him expressionless. Their faces were completely void of any empathy they may or may not held within them.

Hochstetter leaned over his victim and grinned coldly. Hogan started having tremors under his stare. He prayed to God that his men were trying to find him at that very moment. He also sadly knew that they could very well think he had died in the plane crash, not knowing he had jumped out of the aircraft shortly beforehand.

The short Gestapo officer laughed softly.

"I'm going to enjoy this," he said maliciously.

"Stop... _please_ , Hochstetter." Hogan barely spoke.

The only response the American got was Hochstetter lowering his hand with the needle in grasp towards his wounded middle.

* * *

Undercover underground agent, Gestapo Captain Gilbert Beckenbauer, codename Fire Wind, was making his last check on prisoners before going home for the night. He had been informed by the underground's leading man, Otto Heidleman, that Hogan, Papa Bear, had been killed in an aircraft crash within the last 48 hours. It had hit all members hard, but all sent their sympathy to Hogan's men, knowing it had hurt them worst of all.

Gilbert was a young man to be a Gestapo captain. He was in his late 20s', very slim and tall. His eyes were gray blue, his hair a wavy deep brown color, and walked with confidence in his step. In fact, his confidence had been one of the reasons he had been appointed to the Gestapo to work undercover in the first place. The man worked well under pressure and not even the worst of torment would crack him. Kind and willing to help others, but when necessary, especially while being in Gestapo Headquarters, he was a cement wall that nothing or no one could penetrate through.

The young captain continued on with his routine, when he heard a man start shrieking in pain. He silently made his way towards the cell and stopped at Hogan's. He leaned against the heavy metal door and listened more closely.

"That voice," he whispered, to himself. "Why does it sound so familiar?"

Another scream of pain came from Hogan, and Gilbert's eyes nearly jumped out of their sockets.

"KOMMANDANT! HELP ME!" Hogan screeched.

"Papa Bear," Gilbert said so softly, he barely heard it himself. "I thought you were killed!" He quickly made his way from Hogan's cell and quickened his pace to get out of Headquarters immediately. "I must alert Sergeant Kinchloe about this!" Without another word, the young captain was making his way briskly up the stairs and to his office to grab his things for the night.

* * *

" _If_ one of you decide to try _any_ act of escaping, that person will find themselves in _dire_ consequences along with the rest of his bunk-mates!" Klink warned. He had received a report that morning that three men from Stalag 9 had escaped custody late last night and was not in a chipper mood about it. That, and the fact that Major Bock was due for a visit sometime today regarding Hogan's 'kidnapping'.

"Calm down, Kommandant. No one's gonna try and escape from here." Newkirk remarked, mildly grumpy. Besides grief being on his mind, the Englishman had not found it easy to fall asleep last night.

"Oh! You think not, huh?" Klink remarked, snappy. "How about _this_ then; all recreational privileges for barracks two are suspended for two weeks!"

All the men of barracks two moaned.

"And you can all thank Corporal Newkirk for it!" The old German retorted.

"Kommandant, that's a direct violation of POW rights in the Geneva Convention," Kinch said, now in Hogan's place. It did not feel right to the sergeant. It should be the American colonel here protesting to Klink...not him.

"Sergeant Kinchloe, do you want to make it three weeks?!" Klink bellowed.

"No, Sir." He answered softly.

"Diiiiiiiiiiissssmiiiiiiiiiiiiissssssed!"

Klink turned swiftly on his boot and marched to his office with Schultz trailing behind him.

LeBeau, Carter, and Newkirk surrounded their new Senior POW and watched the two Germans disappear into the building.

"Boy," Carter said. "Klink sure has his uh...what's that you say sometimes, Newkirk?"

The Englishman turned his head towards his best friend and raised an eyebrow at him.

"Knickers in a knot?" He replied.

"Yeah! That one!"

"He's just moody because of _Monsieur Bosche_ coming back today." LeBeau remarked, irritated. He was in no mood to confront someone from the Gestapo after losing his commanding officer due to them.

"That Major Bock seemed awful familiar. Haven't we dealt with him before?" Newkirk asked Kinch.

"Yeah. Remember when we had to sabotage that counterfeiting money scheme they set up in camp?"

"Oh yeah...I remember it now. Yeah, you guys tried to get me into the lab. That guy was very clever in proving me wrong. Who would have thought that the Buckenheimer Printing Press would actually turn out to be one of Crazy Eye's favorite pianists."

"He had you good that time."

"Now how do we kill him?" LeBeau hissed, rubbing his knuckles.

"We're not killing anybody, but we will get payback on them." Kinch answered, putting a gentle hand on the short man's shoulder.

The four of them made their way back to the barracks and sat down at the table to discuss plans further.

"These guys get it back, and they get it back _now_!" Newkirk demanded.

"Filthy bosche don't _deserve_ to live after what they took away from us!" LeBeau added, infuriated.

"But...how do we find these guys? We don't know who they are, what they look like, or where it was that Colonel Hogan was…" Carter swallowed a developing knot in his throat. He could not even finish the sentence without the threat of crying taking over him.

"If I remember correctly, one of the last locations the Colonel said was somewhere within thirty miles of this camp," Kinch said. He tried with great intent on trying to remember his commanding officer's last words before they had lost contact.

"West? East?" Newkirk asked.

"North? South?" LeBeau questioned.

"I wanna say something like flying over farmland." The staff sergeant answered. He was already forgetting what Hogan had said to him that last moment in his life and what his voice sounded like. He had not even been dead for a week yet, and his mind was already forgetting the things he missed most about his commanding officer.

"Farmland you say, huh?" Newkirk remarked. "There's a lot of farmland towards the west of here."

"And it's located in the same area the secret runway and landing field are," Kinch said, thinking to himself.

"You think that's where the plane went…" The Englishman could not finish. Every time he remembered who had been lost due to that plane crash, it made him relive the night Hogan had died. The horror, the unknown, the helplessness he had felt not being able to save his commanding officer from inevitable death.

"I do, Newkirk."

"I don't know if I can handle going into that area...not after…" Carter again struggled to finish his sentence.

"The Colonel would have done the same thing for one of us." LeBeau pointed out.

"I'm not Colonel Hogan, alright?! I never _will_ be! _No_ _one_ can ever be him! He's gone!" Carter buried his face into his arms to hide his tears.

"Ah, Carter," Kinch said sadly. He rubbed the young man's back gently. Out of the four of them, the young sergeant seemed to be taking it the hardest. What once used to be their happy, optimistic friend had now become secluded and despondent. He sat in Hogan's room sometimes throughout the day in his chair hoping it would bring him back somehow. When he realized that was not going to happen, he broke down and started grieving all over again. Carter was at a complete loss now without Hogan. He did not know how to handle situations. He did not know whether his ideas were good or not...he did not know how to _live_ anymore.

Newkirk looked at his best friend with sympathy. If he was sad, then he was, too.

"He'll always be with us, Andrew. In our minds and in our hearts." The Englishman said softly.

"But I want him _here_ with us. Where I can see him and talk to him." The young sergeant whimpered.

"If I could bring back the Gov'nor, I would do so with the blink of me eyes."

"Colonel Hogan will be avenged. I'll make _sure_ of it." Kinch answered firmly.

"You got an idea on how we're gonna get payback, mate?" Newkirk asked, his eyes were flickering with curiosity.

"A vague one. Basically, the four of us are gonna go out near that air landing field and look out for anything suspicious. A cannon, a factory, or some sort of military set up within the area. Whoever's arming what shot down the Colonel, we'll take 'em by surprise and bring them back here. After that, we send them off to London for execution."

"Sounds fair enough to me."

Carter started fidgeting with his fingers and started to shrink. He looked uncomfortable and anxiety ridden.

Kinch looked over and noticed his youngest friend.

"It's alright, Carter. You don't have to go if you don't feel up to it," he said friendly.

"It's not that I don't _wanna_ help. I want to get those guys, too. It's just...e...I can't." He struggled in his response.

"I got an idea. LeBeau, you and Carter stay back a couple miles and keep look out. Newkirk and I will handle the raid. We'll take walkie talkies to stay in contact with one another."

"That sounds good enough to me." Newkirk answered.

"Wait a minute! _I_ wanna help with the raid!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"You'll stay with Carter. If Colonel Hogan were here, he'd want you to do the same thing for him. It's _us_ we have to take care of one another now." Kinch replied, stern.

The little Frenchman's fury slowly died down, and he sadly sighed.

" _Oui_...you are right, Kinch," he said softly.

"When do we go out and attack, mate?" Newkirk asked.

"Tonight. Right after evening roll call."


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7:**

Near the middle of the day, a Gestapo staff car pulled into Stalag 13 alongside the Kommandantur. Major Bock stepped out from the vehicle and marched his way with sophistication into Klink's office.

The German colonel himself was buried in paperwork, focused on nothing else, when he heard someone knocking on his door.

"Come in," he said, monotone.

The door swung open, and Bock stepped before Klink.

The Luftwaffe colonel snapped to his feet and instantaneously saluted the man. Bock saluted back with no expression to his face whatsoever.

"Major Bock, what a pleasure it is to see you again!" Klink greeted, grinning childishly.

"Adequate seeing you again as well, Kommandant." Bock replied, calm.

"May I offer you some wine? Brandy? Schnapps?"

"I am just fine, thank you, Klink."

"Yes, Major. Just fine."

Bock made his way to the front of Klink's desk and watched the man himself lower his body back into his desk chair.

"Major Bock, how is the investigation going?"

"Fairly well and fairly bad," was the major's response.

"What's the bad news?" Klink asked, his expression immediately changing to worry and apprehension.

"The bad news is I have yet to find a lead on who has been responsible for kidnapping your colonel."

That took a toll on Klink. He had been hoping that Hogan's kidnapper would have been found or at _least_ a lead on where he had gone or who he might be. Mentally, he sighed in sadness. Physically, he kept the same look as before.

"And the good news?"

"One of my men last night found this about twenty miles out west from here."

Bock tossed Klink what he held in his hands for the kommandant himself to see what it was. Klink looked at it carefully and examined it. It looked like some type of award or military decoration, but he had never seen it before in his career.

"Major Bock, what is this?" He asked, perplexed.

" _That_ , Colonel, is an American Silver Star Award. It is given to men in the United States Army Air Corps. for gallantry in action against the enemy." Bock replied.

Klink swallowed a suddenly hard knot in his throat. Only one person he knew could have been in possession of this award, he thought.

"Hogan…" He gasped, just barely above a whisper.

"Yes, Klink. I strongly believe that _that_ is one of Colonel Hogan's military decorations. It must have fallen off while in route to wherever it is this kidnapper has taken him off to."

"What do we do, Major? Is there someone we can call? Someone we can gain information from?"

"I currently have men searching in a 100 mile radius within this camp east, north, south, and west. I will decide then after their findings what our next step shall be."

"You really think you can find my prisoner and this kidnapper?"

"I told you before, Colonel; I have never had an unsuccessful case in my entire career. I do _not_ plan on starting now."

"Yes, Major Bock." Klink shuddered, under the man's eyes. The way he said things so firmly, it almost made the German colonel believe that Bock was some type of fortune teller or god of some sort.

"My men will report back to me within the next 48 hours. Once I have heard from them, I will return here and report to you their findings. We will go from there."

"Any prediction of what you _might_ decide to do, Major?"

"If we come up short, I will decide then. If more is discovered, I will narrow in my search area and focus on that particular section only."

Klink nodded.

"That sounds good, _Herr Major_ ," he said, monotone.

Bock put on his cap and adjusted his jacket, then he returned his eyes to Klink.

"I shall see you in 48 hours, Colonel," he said, flat. He saluted him and turned on his boot towards the door. He grabbed the doorknob and opened it, looked at the colonel once more, then he left without another word.

Klink slid down in his chair and swallowed hard again. His mind started racing with questions. What if Hogan was never found? What if he _was_ found? What condition would he be in? What condition might he be in now? Where was he? How was he? What if he was found alive? What if he was found...Klink could not finish that question. It made him shudder just to have it come across his thoughts. Yet sadly, it was a possibility. What if they _did_ find Hogan...departed? What would he do? What would happen to his prisoners? Who would he turn to for advice?

Hogan was an enemy to Germany and the Third Reich. No questions about it. Klink knew where the American's loyalty lied, and he was a loyal German, too. Well...for the most part he was at least. Secretly, Klink thought of Hogan as a fellow officer. A confidant. A friend. His _only_ friend, at that. Of course he hoped one day he would meet Burkhalter's expectations and be accepted by him as more than a camp kommandant and a weakling, but he sometimes realized just how unlikely that was. His only real friend was Hogan. There was Schultz, but the American officer was of same ranking. They both faced similar problems and struggles. And a lot of the time, Hogan had _saved_ him from untimely death. The Russian Front, the Gestapo, The Luftwaffe Head Command, Berlin, the firing squad, so many more enemies that could have been listed. He had his suspicions sometimes that Hogan was up to no good, but most of the time left it alone unless he felt absolutely certain he was needed to get involved. He had to keep his rep after all as a loyal and devoted German. He _needed_ Hogan to come back. He _wanted_ him to come back. Without Hogan, he had no one. He had no other friends. And without a friend, how could _anyone_ survive life, especially in war? Without Hogan, Klink was doomed.

He shook his head and tried to steer away from those thoughts. Grabbing his pen, he picked up a sheet of paper that needed to be read over and signed, and made an attempt to resume working. He read the first four words on the paper and instantly put it back down. He threw his pen on top of his work and went back to his thoughts. They just would not let go of him. All he could think about was Hogan. He needed to know his friend was okay. He needed his friend back and healthy again if he was not already. He then came to an idea and decided instantly on it. He lightly slammed his fist on his desk and made it final. Tonight, he would go out with Schultz into the countryside towards the west and together, they would search for, and Klink would make sure of it, that Hogan was found and brought home to where he belonged.

"Don't worry, Hogan," Klink said, to himself softly. "I'll find you if it's the _last_ thing I do!"

* * *

The next time Hogan opened his eyes, there was no one in the cell with him. He was covered up with a thin white blanket and his right hand over his very swollen middle being cut opened and sewn back together. When he realized why he was swollen, a slight bit of pain made its way making Hogan moan softly. He rubbed his belly softly and tried to clear his vision. Everything in his sight was blurry, slightly uneven, and a bit dizzy.

Whether it was night or day outside, Hogan could not tell. He could hardly recognize the cell he had been residing in for the past 48 hours. He was not sure how long he was in the cell either. He could have been there for a week and not even recalled all of his time. He was still frustrated with the fact he could not remember what happened to him the night the plane crashed on the way back from London. All he could remember was that the plane was going down due to something, the pilot and Frederick being inside the plane with him, and jumping out of the plane eventually. After that, there was nothing but black and darkness. Like his memories had been shut off, and he could not find the light switch to turn them back on.

His mind then wandered off to another thought. Where were his men? How were they? Were they trying to find him, or did they think he died in the plane crash? Both possibilities were both highly plausible. If they _did_ think he died, though, how would he ever get out of here? He tried to think of a possible plan to escape out of headquarters, but his mind was so foggy and fuzzy, he could hardly _hear_ himself think. He surrendered the idea of trying to plan an escape at the moment. He could not come up with anything, let alone clever, with his mind so off track of normal thinking and thought processing.

He was about to doze off again, when his cell door came clanging open, and Hochstetter entered in the room. He was quickly followed by Macher and Fritz. Hogan could hardly read their facial expressions or just recognize them at all. He could see three people standing there. He could tell they had eyes, noses, and mouths, that they were all dressed in black clothing with a blurred red, black, and white wrap around their left arm, but what their emotions were was nearly impossible to determine accurately.

"Hogan, are you ready to talk now?" Hochstetter asked roughly. He had meant it as an order, not an option.

The American was so tired and confused, he was not sure if he could answer. He must have lost a tremendous amount of blood to feel so weak and fatigued. He slowly turned his head back to the ceiling and closed his eyes, letting out a soft, heavy breath. He felt completely drained of energy. It had to be from blood loss. He had experienced it once before, and it was the very reason he could not give blood.

"Hogan, you will answer me this instant. It is not an option, it is an order!" Hochstetter barked.

No response came. Hogan was not going to answer. He did not have enough energy to speak or open his eyes again.

The short little Gestapo man growled, then snapped his head towards his men.

" _Geben Sie ihm den Schuss_." He ordered.

Fritz approached Hogan and roughly seized his left arm lying loosely by his side. He rolled up his sleeve and injected a clearish purple liquid into his bloodstream. Finished, Fritz rolled Hogan's sleeve back down and made his way back to Macher.

After a couple minutes, Hogan started sweating a bit and developed rapid breathing. His heart felt like it was beating 200 beats per minute, felt nausea, and hot. He eventually opened his eyes, turned his head towards Hochstetter and their men, and looked at them helplessly. He could tell they were there, but he still could not see their facial expressions.

"What...what did you...give me?" He panted hard.

"Pure caffeine," Hochstetter said coldly. "I have another vaccine here that will flush it out of your system. If you answer my questions, you will get it and be able to go to sleep."

Hogan panted harder and grabbed his belly tighter from the hard breathing causing it to ache more.

"I don't...know. I can't remember." He gasped, with his eyes clenched shut. How much more of this could he take, the colonel wondered.

"You're lying through your teeth! Spill it! Where were you two nights ago?" Hochstetter snarled.

Trying to regulate his breathing, Hogan tried desperately to think of a reason that Hochstetter would believe and possibly even send him home to Stalag 13. He could not think of anything, though. Something was happening to him. His clever wit was beginning to fade, his strength was declining, his courage was failing, and he was beginning to feel surrender and mental breakdown. _No_ , he thought. _I have to keep fighting. For Carter. For Newkirk. For Kinch and LeBeau. The operation and the underground_. Too many lives were at stake, and he would protect his work and his men with his life. But even _he_ was starting to worry on how much more he could handle. How much more of Hochstetter could he take before he completely snapped?

"Stalag 13...Kommandant...Kommandant…" He murmured. He moved his head side to side. "Barracks...Kinch...Klink…"

"I told you before, Hogan. That moron Kommandant of yours nor anyone else can help you now. None of them know where you are. For all they know, you are an escaped prisoner on the run," the short German officer said so coolly, it was almost demonic.

"Ki, Kinch...Carter...Newkirk...Kinch…" Hogan was so out of it, he could not tell left from right. He had to close his eyes again to stop the spinning he felt.

"You can have this all end, Hogan. All you have to do is answer my questions."

"Questions...Kinch...help me…" He whimpered.

"Hogan, answer me!" Hochstetter hissed.

A few more rapid breaths came from the American, then he fell silent and slipped into unconsciousness. The caffeine and blood loss had exhausted him to the point his body needed to rest and recover.

Hochstetter stomped his foot.

"BAH!" He yelled.

The little man stormed out of the jail cell with his two men following and closed the door behind them.

Inside Hogan's mind, there was nothing but blackness surrounding him, but he kept thinking the same thought over and over again.

 _I can't...I can't...I can't do this much longer...I'm...breaking_.


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8:**

Night fell sooner than anyone expected. After Klink had done evening roll call and updated everyone on Hogan's 'kidnapping', Kinch, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau got dressed in their blacks and were soon out of camp headed towards the west. The night air was a bit clammy and humid, but nothing too extreme.

They were currently walking on a hiking path they usually took on assignments in the area, when Carter stopped in his tracks and sat down on a boulder.

Sensing someone behind had quit walking, Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau turned their heads and saw their friend resting.

"Andrew, are you bloody balmy?" Newkirk remarked softly.

"You can't quit walking now!" LeBeau added, just as quietly.

"Geez, can't a guy take a break? We've been walking for over an hour now, and you're telling me none of you are tired?" The young sergeant replied.

Kinch sighed.

"Fine. We'll rest for five minutes, but no more," the staff sergeant said.

Newkirk and LeBeau sat down on a wooden bench that someone had made for the trail, and Kinch sat down on another boulder across from the three of them. He sighed and ran his fingers through his black hair.

"How far do you think we are?" LeBeau asked, trying to start a conversation.

"Who knows," Newkirk said. "60, maybe 70 yards from camp?"

"How far did you say it was from camp, Kinch?" Carter asked, curious.

"About thirty miles," he said, taking a breath of fresh air.

"Boy...do we have a lot of walking to do." Carter replied, rubbing the back of his neck.

"I told yah we should've taken the car." LeBeau grumbled, to Newkirk.

"Oh, you wanna cause a distraction, do yah?" The Englishman replied, sharp.

"We'll _never_ make it there on foot! It's too far!"

"Alright, alright, calm down," Kinch said. "We'll go as far as we can for tonight, and tomorrow we'll arrange for a car to be borrowed from the motor pool to use to go further."

Newkirk and LeBeau sighed, then they turned back to look at their new leader of the operation.

"Alright, mate," Newkirk said softly.

"Fair enough." LeBeau added.

Kinch nodded and got to his feet.

"Well, we got quite a ways to go yet, and it's almost 11:00. We should start heading out again," he said.

The rest of them rose from their seats and continued walking to their unknown destination.

* * *

Klink and Schultz were about 80 yards out west from Stalag 13 and searching the area for Hogan or any signs of him and/or kidnapper. The sergeant of the guard had pulled alongside the road nearby, and both he and Klink got out and went into the forest to search for anything. At the moment, both of them were lost and trying to figure out where to go next with their search.

"Schultz, you _dummkopf_ , I told you to bring a map with you before we left camp!" Klink moaned.

" _Herr Kommandant_ , I did not think we would need it in this part of the area." Schultz answered.

"Oh really. And I suppose you don't think it would be useful right now...in the dark!"

"Perhaps I may have overlooked it, _Herr Kommandant_."

"Overlooked it, you probably caught a glimpse of a chocolate chip cookie I had earlier and completely forgot about it!"

"You had chocolate chip cookies earlier?...Without me?"

"Oh, shut up."

The two continued walking, when they heard a stick snap nearby.

"What was that?" Klink asked, on red alert.

"That, _Herr Kommandant_ , was someone stepping on a stick." Schultz pointed out.

Klink snapped his head around and glared at his sergeant.

"I knew that, I meant where did it come from?" He hissed.

"Oh... _that_ , I do not know."

"Schultz, you never know anything."

"That is not true, _Herr Kommandant_. I know _lots_ of things!"

"Prove it. Who ate all my German chocolate cake last week?"

Schultz turned his head away from Klink and closed his eyes.

"I know nothing. _Nooooothiiiiing_!"

"Ah, you're useless." Klink groaned.

The two of them kept walking, when they heard another stick crack.

"Okay, now I _know_ something is nearby...or _someone_ ," the German colonel said, starting to shiver. _Please don't be Hogan's captor_ , he begged to himself.

"Wh, who?" Schultz asked, growing fearful.

"How should I know?! I'm standing here right next to you!"

* * *

Kinch and his men continued walking, when they heard voices nearby. They stopped in their tracks and froze.

"Who is that?" Carter whispered barely.

"Sounds like bloody Krauts, that's who." Newkirk hissed.

"Let me at 'em, Kinch, let me at 'em!" LeBeau snarled, trying to get towards his victims.

Kinch held back the angry Frenchman from exposing their cover.

"Hold it. We have to attack at the right time. Who knows how many Krauts there might be." He answered softly.

"Kinch, I want those bloody bastards to suffer for what they've done!" Newkirk growled.

" _Mon Colonel_ didn't _deserve_ to die by them!" LeBeau added in.

Kinch hushed them again, this time more harsh.

"We're gonna get back at 'em for Colonel Hogan, but if he were here, he'd tell you the same thing. We have to be quiet and plan this just right, or it could be the end for us and the operation."

Both men let out a heavy breath of anger and nodded.

Once they had settled down, the radioman gave a quick nod.

"Let's keep going," he said softly.

The four of them continued walking and once they heard the voices close enough, they hid behind a bush and looked up to see who it was.

"Who is it, Kinch?" LeBeau asked genuinely.

"My God!" The staff sergeant gasped. "It can't be!"

"Who is it, mate?" Newkirk asked, with urgency.

"Klink and Schultz. They seem to be lost."

"Why would _they_ be out here?" LeBeau exclaimed, in a whisper.

"They're turning this way! Duck down!" Newkirk ordered.

All but Carter snapped down to hide behind the bushes.

"I don't understand why Kli..." The young sergeant never finished his sentence, when Newkirk snapped back up, covered his mouth, and yanked him down to the ground.

Klink turned around in the Heroes direction suspicious.

"What was that?" He demanded.

Newkirk still had his hand over Carter's mouth, and Kinch held a finger to his lips to hush him. Carter nodded, then Newkirk let his hand free.

The four of them turned back to look through the gaps in the bushes and continued to watch their friendly German sergeant and camp Kommandant.

"What are they doing?" LeBeau ordered, in a hushed tone.

"If yah stop yer yappin', we'd find out!" Newkirk hissed, back in a whisper.

"Ssshhhhh," Kinch said softly. "They're speaking."

All four diverted their attention back to the two Luftwaffe Germans.

"What was what, _Herr Kommandant_?" Schultz asked. He had heard nothing for real this occasion.

"You didn't hear that noise?" Klink remarked.

" _Herr Kommandant_ , I did not hear _anything_ , I swear!"

"It sounded like a person yelping."

"Where did it come from?"

Klink waved Schultz off and went back to listening. He waited a minute, then gave a sad sigh.

"Ah, forget it. It's gone." He whimpered.

"Are you sure Colonel Hogan is _here, Herr Kommandant_?"

"Major Bock said he found Hogan's Silver Star Award out west from camp!"

"I believe he said _20 miles_ out west, _Herr Kommandant_ ," Schultz said simply.

"Well!" Klink exclaimed. "I would drive further if I knew _where_ 20 miles out west was, but I can't because _someone_ forgot to bring a map! How do you explain _that_ , Schultz?!"

Schultz was silent for a brief moment, opened his mouth to say something, then closed it again and shook his head.

"No," he said softly.

"Schultz!" Klink warned, holding his fist up and shaking it. He was beginning to grow frustrated with the fact that he had not found anything on Hogan yet, and even more so irritated with his sergeant of the guard's stupidity and forgetful mind. "If we don't find Colonel Hogan, and his captor acts on his threat, I'll put _you_ in the cooler for the rest of the war!"

"But, but, _Herr Kommandant_ , that could be _years_!" Schultz answered, worried.

"Then shut up and help me."

" _Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_."

Klink moaned once more, then he snapped on his boots and continued searching the area with Schultz following close behind.

Once they had left the clearing, Kinch, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau stepped out from behind the bushes and stepped into the middle of the area.

"Klink's looking for _mon Colonel_ , too?" LeBeau asked, astounded.

"He's taking this kidnapping bit pretty seriously." Carter replied.

Kinch glanced the surroundings and decided on which way to go next. He flickered his eyes from left to right checking for Gestapo patrols and other threats that might have lay out there for them. Seeing none, he turned back to look at his friends for their preference.

"What do you guys think? Which way do you wanna head out to next?"

"The way we've been going so far seems alright besides the little hiccup we just had," Newkirk said, looking at the ground.

"Which direction is the air base and landing field again?" Carter asked.

"About another 19 miles that way," Kinch said, pointing west.

"We've only gotten a _mile_ so far?"

"20 miles is pretty far out there, Carter. LeBeau's right; we _are_ gonna need a car to get out that far."

"Well, what do we do _without_ one until tomorrow night?" Newkirk remarked, crossing his arms.

"We can continue looking around this area in case we find something. Doesn't hurt to look in between distances," Kinch said.

"What do we look for?" Carter asked.

"Anything that looks suspicious or out of place."

With that in mind, the four of them started searching staying nearby one another. LeBeau looked to the north, Newkirk to the west, Kinch to the east, and Carter towards south.

LeBeau started walking and looking around his assigned place to search, when he stopped, looked down at something, and became puzzled. He bent over, picked up his finding from the ground, then turned to his right.

"Kinch," LeBeau called out.

The staff sergeant hurried over to his friend's side quickly followed by Newkirk and Carter.

"What do you got, Louis?" Kinch asked.

"Look at this. Does this not look strange to you?" The little Frenchman questioned.

Kinch took the small object from the Frenchman's hands and examined it carefully. He analyzed every part of it and scanned every inch of the object.

"Huh," he said. "This is interesting."

"What is it, mate?" Newkirk asked, curious.

"Some sort of Gestapo military decoration. Looks like a German Cross with diamonds."

"What would that be doing out here in the middle of nowhere?"

"Don't know...seems a little funny though, doesn't it."

"Could have been from a patrol party a few nights ago."

"I don't know...something seems not right about this."

"What do you think it means?" Carter asked, confused.

"If I knew that answer, I would tell you," Kinch said softly.

"What do we do with it?" LeBeau questioned.

Kinch walked forward a few steps deep in thought. He resembled his late commanding officer so much, it frightened Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau watching him. The sergeant in command then turned around and lifted his eyes to the youngest member of their team.

"Carter, have you ever done a fingerprint test?" He prodded.

"Gee," he answered, unsure of himself. "I could try, but I don't know if I'll get anything from it. Who knows how long this thing's been out here. There might not even _be_ a fingerprint there anymore."

"That's all we need. I'll also contact the underground to dig up some information on Gestapo Headquarters to see how many officers have that medal and who they are."

"So...do we keep going or head back to camp?" LeBeau asked.

Newkirk was about to answer, when they heard familiar voices getting closer.

"That's Klink and Schultzie!" He whispered harshly.

"Hide behind those pine trees!" Kinch ordered softly.

The four of them dashed through the trees of pine and quickly made it to their hiding spot. Making sure Klink nor Schultz would see them, the quad popped their heads out from behind and observed what would happen in front of them.

Klink swept across the ground with Schultz waddling behind him. The German colonel resembled a bloodhound trying to find its prey.

"Are you sure you heard something, _Herr Kommandant_?" The big sergeant asked.

"I know I heard someone talking, and it sounded just like Corporal Newkirk!" Klink remarked, fierce.

"Bloody hell, why did _I_ have to be the one he heard?" The corporal in question groaned quietly.

"Colonel Hogan always said it was _you_ that got into the most trouble," LeBeau said, back softly.

Kinch hushed them.

"Listen...we might get something useful." He ordered.

The four of them went back to listening and watching.

" _Herr Kommandant_ , I heard nothing," Schultz said.

"Schultz, you never hear anything!" Klink bellowed.

"But I _didn't, Herr Kommandant._ I swear on my life!"

Klink shook his head and moaned.

"Oh, this whole thing with Colonel Hogan is going to my head."

"What thing?" Schultz questioned.

Klink lifted his head to his sergeant and glared at him atrociously.

"I know; shut up, Schultz," he sadly said and hung his head.

Klink groaned, shaking his fist, then he stormed off back in the direction they had came from with his sergeant following close behind.

Once the coast was clear, Kinch and his men came out from the trees. The leading sergeant turned around and gestured towards back camp.

"Come on, guys. Let's get back to the barracks before anyone notices we're missing," he said.

Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau nodded, then the four of them began their trek back through the night.


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9:**

Carter sat at his lab table examining the medal in every area he could find possible. He put it under a microscope several times, swabbed it with special chemicals and dyes, and scanned for any visible fingerprints there might have been left on the small medal.

While the young chemist did his work, Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau waited in the radio room for a report from their friend. LeBeau sat on a stool and leaned against the table, and Newkirk and Kinch paced back and forth across the floor. Kinch was walking in one direction, and Newkirk in the other.

"How long does it take for someone to find a trace of fingerprints?" LeBeau grumbled. He was growing impatient.

"Some of these fingerprint testings can last up to 48 hours, Louis." Kinch answered.

"48 hours! But I want the filthy bosche who killed _mon Colonel_ to pay _now_!" He exclaimed.

"Well, there's something we _all_ agree on." Newkirk murmured. He too was growing aggravated with all the waiting.

"You'd rather have it we find the wrong guy, get payback, and have the real guy still on the loose out there?" Kinch remarked firmly.

LeBeau and Newkirk turned to look at each other, then back at Kinch.

"We're sorry, _mon ami_...we just want justice is all," the little Frenchman said softly.

"I just want the Gov'nor to get a vengeance." Newkirk added.

"And we'll get it, but we have to be careful and plan everything carefully. Once Carter finds something, this process will go a lot faster than it is now." The staff sergeant answered, crossing his arms.

The man in question exited his lab and approached his friends holding the medal with hands covered in latex gloves and wearing a white lab coat and safety goggles hanging around his neck. The three men before him shot from their spots and circled around their scientist.

"What did you find, Carter?" Kinch asked urgently.

"Not much, but I did find something interesting on the back of it," the young sergeant asked, looking at the military decoration.

"What is it?"

Carter handed the radioman the award and flipped it over to show the back, and pointed to something.

"Look at the back of it, Kinch. Someone must have engraved something on it. I think it might be a serial number, but I'm not certain."

The radioman analyzed it carefully, yet quickly, and came to a conclusion.

"It's an identification number." He spoke, while nodding.

"Don't the Gestapo carry warrant discs on them with that though?" Newkirk asked, perplexed.

"This guy must have wanted to engrave it on the back of his award as well." Kinch answered. He flipped the award in his hands several times, then he turned back to Carter.

"Did you find anything else on this, Andrew?" He asked.

"Sorry, Kinch. That's the best I could come up with," Carter said, a bit disappointed.

"It'll do then. I better call the underground and have them look further into this."

Kinch hurried to the radio with Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau running behind him. They all gathered at the table and watched the radioman work his magic.

Kinch turned on the radio, channeled the correct frequency, and began speaking.

"Papa Bear to Night Owl, Papa Bear to Night Owl, come in, Night Owl."

A brief moment of silence filled the tunnels before a man's voice came over the radio.

" _Night Owl to Papa Bear, how's it going there, Sergeant Kinchloe_?" The familiar voice of loyal underground member, Otto Heidleman, was comforting to hear among the Heroes.

Kinch smiled small.

"We're hanging in their, Otto. We've got a situation we're dealing with right now, though."

" _Something the matter, Sergeant? You know...besides…_ " The underground member did not finish. It was still too fresh for him and every member of the underground that knew Hogan. His death had taken a toll on basically everybody in the unit and operation combined. No one could ever replace Hogan, but all of them were trying their best to move on without him. It was more difficult on some days than others.

"The guys and I are out to get revenge on whoever killed the Colonel and shot down his plane a few nights ago. We have a military decoration here that we believe someone in the Gestapo has. We need you to dig up more information on it, though. As of now, all we have is the award itself and an engraved identification number Sergeant Carter found on the back of it."

" _What is it_?" Otto asked, interested.

"4674."

" _I will look into it as quickly as I can, Sergeant_."

"Knew I could count on you, Otto...how's Tiger doing?"

The underground agent gave a heaving sigh.

" _She's doing as well as can be expected for someone in mourning. She keeps looking at pictures she has of Papa Bear and sometimes has random outbursts of crying. She loved him very much after all_."

"Colonel Hogan loved her just as much and would want her to remember him for the good memories they shared instead of the bad. Make sure she knows that."

" _I will do so the minute I speak with her again. She's currently staying with one of her friends in the underground helping her cope with her loss. It'll take time for her, though, to get back to feeling better again. Losing someone like the way she did with their kind of relationship will take time_."

"We know the feeling," Newkirk said sadly.

"Boy, do I sure miss him. It's not the same without Colonel Hogan here. Telling us what to do, to shape up, giving us orders and assignments, there to make us laugh when we're sad...it's like there's this gaping space in our lives, and we don't know how to make it go away." Carter added on.

"It will never go away, _mon ami_. It will just grow smaller over time." LeBeau replied sadly. He was missing Hogan more than usual today. His late commanding officer would just not leave his mind. It could be their assignment that was causing it to act up.

" _How are **you** four getting along_?" Otto asked sincerely.

"As well as can be, Otto. Just a big empty space causing pain that won't lose its grip on us is all," Kinch said, tired. His grief over Hogan was energy draining. He was amazed that he had not collapsed to the ground from exhaustion yet.

The underground member sighed again.

" _If I could bring him back, I would do so with the blink of an eye_ ," he said softly.

"We know you would, Otto. How are you doing?"

" _Coping...trying to wrap this whole thing around my head_."

"You and us both, mate." Newkirk commented.

"Message us when you get that information, Otto. Take your time, though. We're all dealing with a pretty significant event currently." Kinch answered softly.

" _I will, Sergeant. Night Owl out_ ," said Otto.

"Papa Bear out." Kinch ended communications, let out a soft breath, then turned to look at his friends standing before him.

"How long do you think it'll be, Kinch?" LeBeau asked quietly.

"Maybe a day or two...who knows with what we're going through right now." The radioman sadly replied.

"It's not even three in the afternoon yet, and I already wanna go to bed," Newkirk said.

"You and I both, Newkirk...you and I both," Kinch said, grim.

All four of them stood there in dead silence for what felt like forever. When the radio came to life and a man's voice came through, Hogan's men snapped out of it and switched their attention to the radio.

" _Fire Wind to Papa Bear, Fire Wind to Papa Bear, come in, Papa Bear_ ," Gilbert said, with urgency.

"Papa Bear to Fire Wind, read you loud and clear." Kinch replied quickly.

" _Thank God I got a hold of you! This could be a possible 'life or death' situation we're dealing with_!"

"What's the matter, Gilbert?"

" _Papa Bear...he's alive! And he's being tortured in Gestapo Headquarters_!"

"WHAT?!" All four screamed.

" _The night Papa Bear went down in the plane. He survived somehow. He was arrested by Gestapo officers working for Hochstetter. They're beating him and traumatizing him. The blood curdling screams I heard coming from his cell...it's mutilated my mind permanently. Oh, Sergeant Kinchloe, I should have known sooner! It might be too late now to save him_!"

"We'll get him out of there, don't worry. No one's hurting the Colonel on our watch," Kinch said strongly.

"I'll _kill_ Major Hochstetter if necessary!" LeBeau hissed.

"If _necessary_! I'll kill 'im the minute I see 'im!" Newkirk snarled. He began punching the palm of his left hand with his fist, warming up for a possible beating he would see to.

"We'll be there tonight, and we'll make sure Hochstetter and his goons learn a lesson they never learned before. Thanks for letting us know, Gilbert," Kinch said, ignoring the earlier comments.

" _Not a problem at all, Sergeant. And be careful_!"

"The same to you as well. Papa Bear out."

Kinch turned the radio off and sat there on his stool, completely still for what felt like forever. Hogan was alive. Their commanding officer was alive. He survived the plane going down. Questions started racing Kinch's mind. How was he? How was he doing and holding up? Was he hurt? Was he sick? Was he dead from days of torture and abuse at that moment? Some questions he wanted to know the answer to them, and some of them he did _not_ want to know the answer to.

Coming out of his thoughts, Kinch slowly turned his head towards Newkirk, LeBeau, and Carter. They too had the same looks on their faces he had: astonishment.

"I can't believe it," LeBeau gasped. "Colonel Hogan is alive."

"And in big trouble, mates." Newkirk added, a bit fearful.

"Kinch, we gotta get him back!" Carter cried.

"And we'll _get_ him back if it means risking our lives to do so...but we gotta think about this carefully. We have to be one step ahead of Hochstetter, or this rescue is finished," Kinch said. He started turning ideas in his head, trying to find the one that sounded the most logical and successful to him. He wondered how Hogan thought of ideas so quickly and under pressure. It was a task he had yet to master, but practiced whenever he had to.

"What do we do, Kinch?" LeBeau asked.

"We've gotta get Colonel Hogan out of there before he really _does_ die," Carter said, shaky.

"But how do we do it?" Newkirk asked, desperate for an answer.

As if someone had just smacked Kinch in the face with the answer, he snapped his fingers with an idea.

"I got it," he said. "LeBeau, Newkirk, you two are gonna need a captain's uniform and a colonel's uniform. Newkirk, you'll be the colonel."

"Why do _I_ gotta be the captain?" LeBeau whined.

"Because I'm taller." Newkirk remarked teasingly.

"Why you…" LeBeau tried an attempt to look threatening, but the English corporal would not budge an inch.

Kinch, ignoring the mini dispute, then turned to Carter who seemed worrisome.

"Do you think it'll work, Kinch?" He quivered.

"It's got to, Carter. Colonel Hogan's life depends on it. He's always been there to save us. It's our turn to save him." The staff sergeant returned softly.

"I'll save Colonel Hogan if it means my life!" LeBeau remarked, proud and strong.

"If I see Hochstetter lay just one hand on the Gov'nor, he's gonna get a taste of his own medicine!" Newkirk promised, harsh.

"So it's settled then," Kinch said. "Tonight after roll call, Operation Save Colonel Hogan begins."

* * *

Hogan was kneeling on the cold cement floor. He was clutching his aching belly tenderly, the effects of the caffeine injection still taking a toll on him a bit, and he was sweating and out of breath. He had never reached the point to that he did not know how much longer he could hold out. Encounters with Hochstetter had never gone this far, but then again, his men would have been there to save him by now. Where were they, he wondered. He kept begging for a miracle. That his men had hopes he had survived the plane crash and were doing everything in their power they could to find them. But sadly, no one came. No one was coming for him. Hogan was alone.

As he tried to catch his breath, the door to his cell creaked open, and in came Hochstetter with Macher following not far behind him. Fritz was no where to be seen.

Hogan shook his head as much as he could and started to tremble beneath the Gestapo officers.

"No." He begged. " _Please_...no more!"

"Are you surrendering, Hogan?" Hochstetter cooed.

"Never…" he answered, as strong as he could. His voice was filled with fear. He could not keep it inside him anymore. "I'll never let you win!"

Hochstetter shook his head.

"Hogan," he said. "I never thought it would come to this, but you have forced my hand to do so." The short man turned on his boot and approached the door. He turned his head to the right and looked at someone. "Fritz," he called. "Shoot 'em!"

"Colonel, help! I don't wanna die!" A familiar voice cried. It was Carter's.

"Colonel, save us! Tell them!" LeBeau's voice was heard.

"Come on, Colonel! Just tell him what he wants, Sir!" Kinch cried.

"Gov'nor, do as he says! I don't wanna die, Gov'nor!" Newkirk wailed.

"No," Hogan gasped. "No! Don't hurt them!"

"I'll let them go after you answer a few of my questions. If you fail to cooperate, you will witness each of your men die and live with the fact that you are responsible for their deaths!" Hochstetter hissed.

"What kinda monster are you?" Hogan answered, in fear and disgust. "I'll do whatever you want...just let them go! It's me you want, not them!"

"I've been left with no alternative. Your loyalty to your men is your greatest weakness...you'd be willing to die for them, no?"

"Yes...I'll do anything, just let them go, _please_!"

"What were you doing in the forest that night, Hogan?"

"I told you I don't know! What part of that don't you understand?! I can't remember!"

Hochstetter bent his head slightly back and turned to the left.

"Fritz," he called. "Kill the Frenchman first!"

"LeBeau! No!" Hogan cried. "Let him go!"

There was a gunshot fired, then the voices of Carter, Newkirk, and Kinch cried for help. LeBeau's voice was not heard.

"No! LeBeau!" Hogan shrieked.

"Your Englander's next!" Hochstetter warned.

"You leave Newkirk alone! Let them go, and do whatever you want to me!"

"What were you doing in that forest, Hogan?"

"Escaping...I told you I don't remember after that. One of your men must have knocked me out!"

"Gov'nor, help!" Newkirk begged.

"I'm coming, Newkirk!" Hogan answered, terrified. His pain was completely forgotten and running purely on adrenaline.

"Gov…" Another gunshot followed by silence. Newkirk was gone.

"Newkirk! Newkirk!" Hogan wailed.

"What were you doing that night, Hogan?!" Hochstetter snarled.

"I DON'T KNOW! LET MY MEN GO!"

"Fritz, the black man's next on the list!" The major ordered.

"Kinch...leave him alone! Shoot me instead! _Please_ , Hochstetter! I'm _begging_ you!"

"A shame what you have become, Hogan. You're a weakling."

"Let my men go! Don't kill Kinch, please!"

Outside of Hogan's hall and down a few cells, Fritz pushed the play button on the recorder he had and let Kinch's recorded voice ring out again.

"Colonel, just answer his question, Sir," the voice said pleadingly.

"Hang on, Kinch. I'm coming in a minute. Don't let him intimidate you!" Hogan yelped.

Fritz fired his gun into an empty cell and switched tapes.

"KINCH! NO!"

"Colonel, help me!" Carter's voice cried.

"No...no...let him go. He's just a kid...he's _just_ a kid!" Hogan begged, with mercy.

"I'll let Sergeant Carter free if you answer my question...what were you doing that night, Hogan?" Hochstetter asked, once more.

The American colonel shook his head, his eyes brimmed with tears.

"Hochstetter...you're not that evil...you're not that evil…" He whimpered.

"I'm waiting for an answer, Hogan," was his reply.

"I was escaping...I was looking for a nearby house...I don't know after that, _please_ believe me, Hochstetter!"

One last gunshot rang out, and soon there was nothing. Hogan's men were gone.

"NO! NO, NO, NO! NO!"

Hogan was at that point screeching bloody murder. His eyes were clenched, tears were streaming down his face, and heaving out huge screams of mercy. It was as if someone had broken his back and legs at the same time and refused to give him pain medication for relief. After several minutes of screaming out in agony and crying, Hogan fell dead silent for a brief moment.

Fritz had come back in the cell and stood next to Macher. Both men looked at one another and wondered whether the American had gone into shock and killed himself from it or not. Even Hochstetter after so long started to wonder whether the man was dead or not.

Suddenly, Hogan slowly got to his feet and showed a malicious grin on his face. His eyes were twinkling, but it was not his normal twinkle of life, cleverness, and kindness. This was something much more fierce and terrifying. His eyes were almost completely black and looked as if a demon had just possessed his soul. He started giving a soft chuckle, and it gradually became wicked and thunderous cackling.


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10:**

Hochstetter and his men stood there watching Hogan carefully. Ever since standing up and his random burst of diabolical laughing had began, they were observing to see if the American served as any threat to them. They were also concerned as to why the man was no longer crying and screaming for his men.

"Ah, yes! After all these years, I'm free!" Hogan cried victoriously. They was an edge in his voice and still had the same creepy smile on his face. He started laughing again.

"Hogan," Hochstetter said. He took two steps forward, waited a few moments, then made his way closer to his prisoner. "Are you feeling alright?"

"I haven't felt any better in a long time, Major," Hogan said friendly.

"I see." Hochstetter stepped back. He was curious to know what the man was thinking currently. He did not seem upset with the situation at hands. In fact, he seemed joyous about the occasion. It intrigued the Gestapo officer, yet at the same time, it terrified him just as much. "Hogan, what are you thinking of right now?"

"Oh, nothing but my beloved _Fuhrer, Herr Major_." He answered, grinning.

"That's nice, Hogan. Now…" Hochstetter's mouth dropped from his hinges as soon as he registered what it was the American had just said. The **_Fuhrer_**?! Did he just praise over Hitler?! The Americans hated Hitler! He stopped his pacing and turned to look back at his prisoner stunned. "Did you just mention the _Fuhrer_?"

The American beamed like the sun hearing Hitler's name.

"Not just your _Fuhrer_ , Major... _mine_ as well." Hogan snapped into attention and held his arm out at an angle. " _Heil Hitler_!" He cried triumphantly.

Now Hochstetter was unsure of what to think. There was his arch enemy, a man that was sneaky, deceptive, under-handing, a man he hated and wanted dead and to suffer, was standing before him now in what he guessed was a glazed over stage of praising the Nazis, the Gestapo, and the man he hated most in this war. He raised an eyebrow, suspicious of his prisoner, and took a step back towards his men.

"Uh huh...I see," said Hochstetter carefully. He did not know whether Hogan was acting or not. He knew the man was gifted in manipulating people and getting them to think what he wanted, but at the same time, he knew that if something ever happened to Hogan's men, the American would be destroyed. He had to see whether what Hogan said was true or not...but how? If he truly had converted sides, Hogan could be a _major_ asset to the Nazis. He knew this supposed 'operation' inside and out, possibly every contact in the underground, he could help the Germans win the war and defeat the Allied Powers in doing so! He could prove Hochstetter had been right all along and as a result, gained one of the strongest and intelligent man of the Allies as an ally for himself. Hochstetter grinned at this revelation and spun back to face Hogan again.

"Alright, Hogan," Hochstetter said. "I'll make you an offer. If you successfully complete your side of it, I will make you an official colonel of the Gestapo. If you fail to do so, I will shoot you on sight the next time I see you."

The man in question crossed his arms and chuckled faintly.

"What do you want me to do, Major?" He asked, intrigued.

Hochstetter thought for a moment, then snapped his fingers, a light bulb turning on in his brain.

"Get me secret military plans for the Allies newest attack they have planned for Germany. You manage to bring me those, I will set you free and make you an official member of the Gestapo."

Hogan smiled with pleasure and smirked.

"Gladly," he said, his eyes filled with callousness.

* * *

Newkirk, dressed as an old, ornery Gestapo colonel, and LeBeau dressed as a young captain entered into Headquarters. Both were focused only on getting their colonel out of Hochstetter's hands, setting the score even, and taking their beloved commanding officer home where he belonged.

Making sure no one was in nearby hearing distance, Newkirk pulled LeBeau aside near the door to give a quick debrief of what was about to go down.

"You know the plan, Louis?" He whispered.

" _Oui_ , Pierre. We demand entrance into the holding cells down in the basement, find which cell the filthy bosche are holding _mon Colonel_ , demand him turned over under orders of General Kinchmeyer, humiliate them for disobeying a Gestapo general, and bring Colonel Hogan home." The little Frenchman answered.

"Good...you ready to save our Gov'nor?"

"I thought you would never ask."

Newkirk gave a grin of mischief, and the two of them made their way into the building.

"What is this?!" The Englishman snapped angrily. "What kind of running establishment is this?! I've never seen such destruction and chaos going on in a building!"

" _Herr Colonel_ ," a young man said, worried. It was a Gestapo sergeant. "What's a man of your ranking doing out here at this hour?"

"You questioning a colonel, Sergeant?!"

"No, _Herr Colonel_! I would _never_ do such a thing!"

"Then why are you still talking?!"

"I don't know, Colonel. I was just answering your questions."

"WHY DOES THIS MAN KEEP TALKING?!"

The sergeant shivered under Newkirk's glare and yelling. He was utterly terrified of the man.

" _Herr Colonel_ ," LeBeau said softly.

"What is it, Captain? Can't you see I'm busy questioning this man?!" Newkirk remarked, harsh.

It was then Gilbert came running upstairs and made his way quickly towards both of Hogan's men.

"Sergeant, I need to speak with these men in private for a moment." Gilbert ordered.

" _Herr Captain_ , I, I, I was just talking to the…" Newkirk cut off the stuttering sergeant.

"You're dismissed! I've had enough of you!"

" _Jawohl, Herr Colonel_."

"WHAT ARE YOU STILL DOING STANDING THERE?! GET LOST!"

The sergeant nodded rapidly and ran off to other duties.

Gilbert escorted Newkirk and LeBeau over to a corner to speak in private.

"You two need to get out of here! He's gone mad!" Gilbert hissed softly.

"Who's gone mad?" LeBeau asked, curious.

"Papa Bear...he's _mad_ , Corporal LeBeau! Hochstetter's drove him insane!"

"I wanna see for meself, mate," Newkirk said coolly.

"He'll _kill_ you! I know what I've heard, Newkirk! He is _not_ Papa Bear any longer!" Gilbert protested.

"I'd oughta kill you for saying such a wretched thing! He'll _always_ be Papa Bear! Now I wanna see him, now!"

Gilbert pulled out his gun and pointed it at the hot headed Englishman.

"If you care about Papa Bear as much as I know you two do, you'll leave... _now_!" He ordered.

LeBeau suddenly realized just how severe this situation was. Gilbert never pulled out a gun unless it was in self defense or to protect someone he cared deeply for. Hogan and his men were just a few of those he cared for. The little Frenchman swallowed a sudden knot in his throat.

"What have...what have they done to him, _mon ami_?" He trembled.

Gilbert lowered his gun and shook his head sadly.

"I don't know...one minute he was screaming out in agony...next minute he was cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West." The Gestapo captain answered meekly.

"Impossible. The Gov'nor would _never_ do such a thing." Newkirk remarked. He was unconvinced still that Hogan had gone mad. His commanding officer was too strong to crack like so...unless he had been pushed to extreme measures...which would mean...it would have to do with something regarding _them_!

"Leave," Gilbert begged. "If you two are wise, you will leave here."

"What about Colonel Hogan?" LeBeau asked softly.

"Forget him. Our Papa Bear is gone...a _demon_ has come out of him. He is _not_ Papa Bear anymore."

It was then Newkirk started feeling the same bad energy LeBeau was having. Something was wrong... _very_ wrong. He knew Gilbert, and he knew that the man did not mess around. If he said something, it was dead serious. The Englishman swallowed a lump in his throat and nodded shaky.

"Forget him." He croaked.

Gilbert gestured to the door very subtle, then the two of Hogan's men walked outside and down to the staff car they had 'borrowed' from Klink. Once they got there, Newkirk and LeBeau turned to face one another.

"What do you think he meant by 'a demon has come out of him'?" The Brit asked, worried.

"You don't think the Colonel's gone…" LeBeau could not finish that thought. What he assumed was worse than treason. It would kill him if it were true.

"God, I hope not," Newkirk said pleadingly. "If he has, we're finished."

"We're as good as roadkill."

"Come on, mate. Maybe Kinch'll have an idea."

"But...what about Colonel…"

"We can't help him now. If he truly has gone batty, we're gonna need a bigger plan than the one we've got now. Come on."

Newkirk and LeBeau got in the car. They sat there for a minute, then turned to look at the building in front of them. For about four minutes, they sat there and wondered whether or not they should go back in and take Hogan home anyways. Was it true? Had their American colonel been pushed so far that he had snapped and gone mad? Had they lost Hogan completely?

Deciding it was too risky to go back inside and retrieve him, Newkirk sighed sadly, turned the key in the ignition, and headed back for Stalag 13.


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11:**

Newkirk and LeBeau, back in their Allied uniforms, made their way to the radio room and greeted Kinch and Carter. Both had been impatiently waiting for their return. When they saw that Hogan was not with them, it was Carter that asked the question.

"Where's Colonel Hogan?"

Newkirk hesitated to answer, but found his words eventually.

"He's not coming."

"What do you mean 'not coming'?" Kinch asked, crossing his arms.

"We saw Gilbert on our way down to the basement...he said that the Gov'nor's gone mad. That he's no longer the Colonel we once knew and loved."

"Impossible."

"No way, boy! Colonel Hogan would _never_ turn on us!" Carter added.

"We thought the same thing...that was until Gilbert threatened to shoot us if we didn't get out." Newkirk continued.

"Gilbert put you at gunpoint?" Kinch gasped.

" _Oui_." LeBeau replied. "It was then we realized something was wrong. He said Colonel Hogan had a demon come out from beneath him."

"Are you sure Gilbert wasn't just joking?" Carter asked, suspicious.

"Gilbert doesn't joke around, Carter," Kinch said. "If he said something's wrong, then something's very wrong with the Colonel."

"We gotta get him back, Kinch! But how do we do it if Gilbert won't even let us approach him?"

"We gotta find a way to get passed the front door. We'll have to wait until Gilbert is off duty and go in then."

"Kinch, what if what Gilbert says is true...that the Gov'nor is…" Newkirk shuddered and did not finish. He _couldn't_ finish. Losing Hogan in such a way would kill all four of them emotionally and physically.

"If he's gone mad, Newkirk, we'll find a way to bring our Colonel back. We have to stick together, as he always told us."

Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau all nodded and agreed. If Hogan was mad, it was up to them to cure it and bring their colonel back to them. He would do the same for one of them, and they all knew that. He always had put them first. Now it was their turn to do the same for him.

"You're right, _mon ami_ ," LeBeau said. "If it were one of us instead of the Colonel, he would do everything possible to bring us back where we belong."

"I'll get the Gov'nor to come back to us if it means me own life." Newkirk commented.

"Me too, buddy!" Carter cried.

"Now," Kinch said. "How are we gonna do it?"

* * *

An old abandoned cabin near the edge of the forest and on top of a massive hill. It stood lonely by itself and had no lights on inside.

Hogan made his trek up the hill with the Gestapo officer Hochstetter sent with him standing at the bottom. His gun was out and ready to fire if he realized the American had been faking the entire time and made an attempt to escape.

Hogan looked back down at his fellow comrade, then turned his head back to what was in front of him. When he reached the small cabin, Hogan found the secret latch to unlock the door and slipped inside quietly. He silently closed the door behind him and made a quick check to see if the coast was clear. Seeing no one, he made his way over to the desk in the living area. Hogan flipped through several documents belonging to the underground agent who owned the place, White Rabbit, and stopped when he got to the ones he was searching for. Picking them up and looking at them quickly, Hogan gave a soft, malice chuckle.

"There you are," he said coolly.

"Papa Bear?" A voice from behind him gasped.

Hogan slowly turned around to find White Rabbit standing behind him. A young man no more than Carter's age wearing a flannel shirt, jeans, and a black hat on his head. Fair white skin that complemented his soft, green eyes. He stood agape seeing him. A smile instantaneously grew upon his face.

"My God, it _is_ you! Am I glad what we heard was wrong! Everyone thinks you died in a plane crash, Papa!" He cried, with relief.

Hogan did not answer. He looked at him with haunted eyes and made no facial expression.

White Rabbit raised his eyebrow and looked at his commander worried.

"Are you alright, Papa Bear? You seem distracted by something."

A sick smile grew on Hogan's face and lifted his pistol up at the man.

White Rabbit's eyes nearly fell out of their sockets, and he slowly raised his hands in the air. He swallowed a lump in his throat and began shivering.

"Papa Bear...what is this?" He stuttered.

Hogan chuckled softly.

"Just making sure these plans are safe and sound," he said softly. "I think I'll take them with me on my way out."

"Sir...you said no one was to leave this place with those plans. Even _you_ said you did not want to look at them for safety precautions."

"Can't a man change his mind?"

White Rabbit swallowed again. What was wrong with Hogan, he wondered. Why was he acting so...cold hearted? He had never seen him in such a state. It was as if Hogan was not even there anymore. That a demon had consumed his soul and was now in control of him.

"Papa Bear...what are you…" Hogan cut him off.

"Just taking these plans to a very safe place...let me go with them and all will be well." He spoke so sweetly and softly, it was creepy. Hogan's eyes were almost completely black and seemed to be sucking in the light coming from the moon into an empty hole of darkness.

White Rabbit shook and slowly reached for his belt. He lifted his pistol up slowly and held it firmly in his grasp.

"I can't let you do that, Sir...I have orders from...Sergeant Kinchloe...t...to...keep them here until London notifies us."

Hogan's expression seemed to automatically switch from the creepy smile he once had to a fearsome and dark form. Like the devil himself had wiped across his face and cast him in a shadow. His eyes burned with fire in them, and he looked like a mad dog ailing from rabies.

"Sergeant Kinchloe...that man can rot and die for all I care! Why the hell do you chose to listen to him and not me?!" He snarled.

"Papa...you said it in your orders if you were to die...that Sergeant Kinchloe was supposed to take charge unless told otherwise!"

"Things change! Now I'll tell you one more time, and next time I shoot! Let me leave with these plans, and I'll be getting back to Major Hochstetter!"

"Major Hochstetter!"

"Yes, Major Hochstetter! I work for him now, and I can promise you once Germany wins the war, you and every man and woman in the underground will be wiped out entirely!"

"No...no...no, you're not!"

"Not what?!"

"...Papa Bear...what did they _do_ to you, Sir?"

"None of your damn business! Now, if you were wise, I'd let a man in the Gestapo leave and not ask anymore questions of him. If you do otherwise, you will be shot, and I will watch you suffer a slow, dying legacy...now drop the gun!"

White Rabbit dropped his pistol on command and raised his hands back in the air. He shuddered and trembled under Hogan's eyes. This was not the American colonel he once knew. Colonel Robert Hogan, aka Papa Bear, a loyal American and Allied Officer, a man full of love, a sense of humor, and compassion, yet strength, clever wit, and authority, was now standing there like a demonic spirit waiting for the right moment to go in for his kill. He was now full of hate, anger, he was merciless, and evil down to the core.

Hogan went back to his creepy smile and chuckled again softly.

"Now...isn't that better?" He asked.

White Rabbit fought back from crying out in utter fear.

Hogan tucked the plans under his right arm, approached White Rabbit, then grabbed him by the shirt collar and pulled him so close, that the underground agent could feel his hot breath against his face.

"Mention of this to anyone, _especially_ Sergeant Kinchloe, you better find your way out of Germany before I find _you_...got it?!"

"Yes...yes, Papa Bear, I promise!"

"And stop calling me Papa Bear!" Hogan shoved White Rabbit away from him, like it burned his hands to touch him. "I'm not Papa Bear anymore...from now on, I shall be Gestapo Colonel Hogan. Goodbye...White Rabbit." Grabbing the door, Hogan opened it and let out a diabolical laugh, then he left White Rabbit alone with nothing else but his terror.

The young underground agent crumbled to the floor and whimpered loudly. He looked over to his radio set and stared at it. He had to tell Kinch what had happened. If Hogan found out, though, he was good as dead. He made sure the American colonel was no where in sight, then got to his feet shaky seeing no one around. He trembled to his desk, collapsed into his desk chair, then turned on his radio and grabbed the mic.

"Sergeant Kinchloe...Sergeant Kinchloe, answer me! Help me!" White Rabbit wept. While he waited for an answer, he continued sobbing in fear and terror.

* * *

" _Sergeant Kinchloe...Sergeant Kinchloe, answer me! Help me_!" White Rabbit sobbed, into the radio.

Hogan's men all snapped their attention to Kinch's radio, and the sergeant in need sat down and answered the call.

"White Rabbit, what's going on?" Kinch asked, genuinely concerned.

"Are you alright, mate?" Newkirk asked, worried.

"You sound terrified, _mon ami_." LeBeau added.

" _He's **mad** , Sergeant...he's mad_!" The underground member wept.

"Who's mad?"

" _Papa Bear...he's mad, Sergeant_!"

Kinch lifted his head towards his friends, and all of them exchanged the same look on their face. Something was wrong...and Hogan was blind mad.


	12. Chapter 12

**Chapter 12:**

"Are you sure it was Papa Bear you saw?" Kinch asked, a hint of anxiety masked under his voice.

" _He threatened to **kill me** , Sergeant_!" White Rabbit exclaimed.

"What happened?" Carter gasped. Was it true? Had they lost Hogan altogether?

" _I was coming home from a meeting with other underground members. I saw him standing at my desk rifling through papers and asked if it was him. When he turned around, I knew instantly that something was wrong with him...his eyes...Oh God, his eyes_!" The underground member started breaking down. " _Oh God, he'll kill me...I don't **wanna** die, Sergeant! Please don't let me die_!"

"You're gonna be fine, Will," Kinch said sincerely. "What happened after he turned around?"

Once collecting himself, Will continued.

" _I told him I was glad he had survived. That we thought he had died in the plane crash...when he pulled a gun out and...pointed it at me…_ " The underground member paused. Hogan's men could tell just how terrified this man was. How they never thought that their commanding officer would come to such a state of mind. " _I asked if he felt alright, then he told me to let him have secret plans of the Allied military and not question him or be shot_."

"The new military plan the United States Army Air Corps. developed?!" LeBeau gasped.

" _Yes... **that** one...I tried to tell him he had given orders for no one to leave or look at those plans...he said he was taking them to Major Hochstetter and was to become a Gestapo Colonel…_"

"A Gestapo Colonel?!" All four men cried.

"You're bloody lying!" Newkirk hissing.

" _Mon Colonel_ would _never_ work for Hochstetter!" LeBeau snarled.

" _You wanna risk getting killed, fine! But leave me out of it! I know what I saw, and what it was wasn't the Papa Bear we once knew. He's not the same man anymore! If anything, he's a changed man...he's not the Papa Bear we knew and honored anymore...he's a **monster**_!" Will exclaimed, with fear.

"But, but...but _why_?" Carter choked. He did not want to believe it. He did not want to believe that Hogan, the man he looked up to most and loved like a father, had turned to the enemy and betrayed them.

" _I don't know, Sergeant Carter...all I know is what I saw...he didn't even look human anymore. Like something broke him on the inside and released this...this...thing that has now become him_." The underground agent answered sadly.

"He wouldn't. I know _mon Colonel_ , and he would _never_ betray us like this!" LeBeau cried, fighting back tears in his eyes. He knew his commanding officer. Hogan would never go to Hochstetter's side and put them into harm's way. He was strong, loyal, kind, the American officer hated the Gestapo and loathed them. Hogan switching sides in the war was like Hitler deciding to become a nice leader and cease his genocide on anyone that did not like nor followed his laws and philosophies.

" _I'm sorry, Corporal LeBeau, but it's true...Papa Bear has gone bad…_ " Will answered softly.

" _No_! He wouldn't! Colonel Hogan wouldn't!" Carter pleaded. Tears were streaming down the young sergeant's face.

Kinch gave a heavy sigh and shook his head.

"Oh, Colonel...what did they do to you?" He softly murmured to himself. Once he had taken all he could in momentarily, he turned back to the radio. "Anything else, Will?"

" _No...I wish I could do something to bring our Papa Bear back, though_ ," was his answer.

"We'll get him back, Will. Don't worry about that. Thanks for the warning."

" _Sergeant...he's not gonna...he won't come back here and…_ " Kinch cut him off.

"Papa Bear will never find out you told us this. Trust me."

" _Thank you...White Rabbit out_."

"Papa Bear out."

Kinch turned the radio off, let out another heavy sigh, then he turned to his friends. Two had wet eyes from crying, and one was astounded at what he had just heard. Colonel Hogan, their fierce leader, their valiant military officer, a man filled with nothing but good, forgiveness, gentleness, and kindness was now a man filled with hatred, anger, evil, and barbarity. None of them could register what they had been just told. None of them _wanted_ to register what they had just been told!

"He wouldn't...he wouldn't, Kinch, he wouldn't!" LeBeau pleaded.

"We all heard what White Rabbit told us. He's never lied to us before," Kinch said sadly.

Carter wiped his eyes, but more tears fell anyways.

"I don't want Colonel Hogan to abandon us. I want him to come back again." The young sergeant whimpered.

"And we'll _get_ him back." Kinch turned to look at all of them. "Colonel Hogan never gave up on one of us. He was there to help us to the very end. Newkirk, when you were suffering from traumatic psychosis after Rotes Hemd died, who was the one to help you recover from that mental trauma?" (1)

Newkirk swallowed hard.

"The Gov'nor." The Brit croaked.

Kinch turned to Carter.

"Carter, when Lieutenant Walters came here and had you all shook up over blackmail, who was the one to step in and get rid of him?" (2)

The young sergeant sniffled.

"Colonel Hogan did."

"Exactly. Colonel Hogan was there for us then, he was there for us when we got into trouble on several assignments, he sat at our bedsides and cared for us when one of us were hurt or sick, was there to comfort us and give us advice in times of struggle. It's time for us to pay back the favor. It's _our_ turn to help _him_." Kinch continued.

Newkirk turned his head towards the staff sergeant with determination on his face.

"He would do the same if it were one of us instead."

" _Oui. Mon Colonel **never**_ gave up on one of us. He wouldn't do so now if it were _me_ instead of him!" LeBeau spoke, proud.

"I'll protect Colonel Hogan if it means dying while doing so," Carter said, strong and loud.

"But...how do we do it, mate? If what White Rabbit says is true, how do we save him and bring him back without risking ourselves getting shot and killed by him or Hochstetter?" Newkirk asked, unsure.

Kinch leaned forward on the table and laced his fingers together in front of him. He let his brain start to wander and think of possible solutions. As he stood there thinking, he wondered how Hogan had always been so quick with his ideas. How he quickly thought of a solution to a problem, made the idea exotic, yet brilliant at the same time. It amazed him at what his commanding officer was capable of. And it terrified him now that he had joined forces with the enemy. The Allies were good as dead with Hogan now playing traitor. His mind and clever wit would destroy them.

The radioman turned to look at his fellow Englishman with uncertainty in his eyes.

"When I figure that out, Newkirk, you'll be the first one to know."

* * *

Hochstetter paced back and forth across his office with Macher standing near the window. The young Gestapo lieutenant stood quietly and kept his mouth shut. He kept his demeanor firm and impatient while eternally locking away his fear. Hochstetter terrified the young officer. His random outbursts of anger, his sudden changes of emotions were just a couple reasons why he frightened him so.

"I wonder what's taking Fritz and Hogan so long." The major murmured, to himself.

"Perhaps they got lost, Sir," Macher suggested carefully.

Hochstetter snapped his eyes towards the young man.

"Impossible! If Hogan truly knows about any secret military plans, he'd know them like the back of his hand!" He snarled.

Macher swallowed and continued hesitantly.

"I meant...driving wise, _Herr Major_. Suppose Captain Fritz got lost being it so dark out."

"Fritz could drive in this area perfectly with his eyes blindfolded. No, Hogan must have something to do with this. I knew he wouldn't turn to our side...Fritz knows what to do, though."

Macher nodded softly.

" _Jawohl, Herr Major_ ," he said softly.

After Hochstetter had turned his attention away from him, the lieutenant shivered slightly. He was not fond over Americans. He loved Germany with his whole being, but he did not want to see the man die or suffer so. It took all his strength during Hogan's 'interrogation' to not crack under pressure and step in to stop it. Did he want his country to win the war, yes. Did he want the lives of many innocent people to die and suffer to do so, no. Macher respected his fearsome leader for helping Germany to come out from their Great Depression and was grateful for that...it was when Hitler began his genocide and secret police force did the man begin to question his country's leader's intentions.

As Hochstetter continued to pace and make a rut in his office, the door opened, and Fritz entered in. He stood straight and tall and saluted his commanding officer. The short major returned the salute and made his way closer to the captain.

"Where is the prisoner?" His hissed, through his teeth.

Fritz stepped aside and let Hogan enter in next. The American did not even look human. His eyes were black and sparkling with something that was not his twinkle of mischief and good spirits. He was grinning, but it was not one of being friendly. It held evil and demented thoughts within it. It was as if something or someone had sucked all the humanity from Hogan's soul and left nothing but a demonic one behind. It was almost like the good Colonel Hogan had never existed.

Macher swallowed a large lump in his throat and hid his anxiety from surfacing. He had to look menacingly in front of his commanding officers and now in front of the American called Hogan. Only God knew what the man's mental state was now.

Hochstetter made his way to Hogan and looked fiercely into the man's eyes. Nothing but fire brimmed within his pupils.

"Where is it, Hogan?" He asked so low, it was almost inaudible.

The American grinned and dug into his jacket pocket. Pulling out blueprints of the secret Allied plans, he handed them over eagerly to the Gestapo major.

Hochstetter grabbed them roughly and began unfolding them. He scanned them over to make sure they were valid with Fritz glancing over them from behind. After checking for authenticity, once realizing they were the real thing, Hochstetter nearly fainted. The color drained from his face and swallowed hard. Hogan had actually _helped_ him! Instead of running off or trying to con the Gestapo, Hogan had followed orders, returned to Headquarters, and had assisted in helping Nazi Germany win the war!

After collecting himself, Hochstetter slowly turned his head back to Hogan, who was standing there with a sinister smile on his face.

"These are real…" The short man gasped.

"Indeed, _Herr Major_ ," Hogan said softly.

"You're serious, Hogan...you actually have converted sides of the war...that's treason to the United States military!"

"Is that a problem, Major? I thought you, out of all people, would be happy regarding that fact."

"Not at all, Colonel...it's just... _surprising_." Hochstetter could hardly believe what he was hearing, what he was _seeing_. Hogan, a once loyal and devoted American officer, a man who despised the Gestapo and everything they did as a union, was now showing loyalty and passion towards the Third Reich, to _Hitler_ , of all people!

Macher stood silently, his eyes flickering back and forth from Hochstetter, to Hogan, to Fritz, then back to Hochstetter again. He was terrified at what he was witnessing. He rubbed his hands silently on his jacket, when he felt something out of place. His eyes grew slightly in size and slowly looked down at his chest, then he froze. Where was his German Cross? He could have sworn he had seen it the other day. Where would it have gone off to? Sensing someone might look in his direction soon, he quickly fixed his composure and went back to looking menacing and firm.

"Major, I held up my end of the deal...now what about you?" Hogan asked, no hesitance in his voice could be detected.

Hochstetter nodded, still recovering from his sudden wave of shock.

"Yes, uh, Fritz! Take Colonel Hogan and find him a Gestapo colonel's uniform. Once you've done that, send him back here to me for paperwork and registration processing."

" _Jawohl, Herr Major_." Fritz turned to Hogan smiling kindly. "This way, _Herr Colonel_."

" _Danke_ ," Hogan said, just as friendly.

Both men disappeared out into the hall and walked off towards the left.

Once out of sight, Hochstetter started laughing wickedly.

"I've _won_! I got Hogan under my command and soon will have every amount of information possible on the underground and Hogan's little operation in my knowledge! Soon the Allies will be _begging_ for mercy, surrender the war, and Germany will become the victorious and strongest country in the world!" After his pride and joy simmered a bit, Hochstetter turned to Macher and smiled friendly. "Lieutenant, you've had a long night. How about going home and relax for the rest of the evening?"

Macher nodded.

" _Danke, Herr Major_ ," he said softly.

" _Heil Hitler_!"

" _Heil Hitler_."

After exchanging salutes, Macher made his way out of Hochstetter's office, then he closed the door behind him. He took a minute to collect himself after witnessing what had just taken place a few moments earlier. He had seen a man, a man he assumed who once was filled with gentleness and kindness, flick switches in an instant and become everything opposite of what and who he once was. And what about his cross? His German Cross? What if people found out he had lost such an honorable award? What would happen to him then?

Terrified and anxiety ridden, Macher hurried out of the building and made his way to his car. As he started walking, he made a promise to himself.

"I must stop what has happened."

* * *

(1) Newkirk's psychosis and mental trauma is from my story 'Hogan's Heroes: A Memory Lost In Darkness'.

(2) Carter's abusive and terrifying commanding officer is from my story 'Hogan's Heroes: Only We Can Do That'.


	13. Chapter 13

**Chapter 13:**

Newkirk and Carter sat at the table that following morning lost in their thoughts, wallowing in their own sadness. LeBeau did the same as he cooked breakfast for the four of them. Kinch was down in the tunnels waiting for Otto to notify him regarding the diamond studded German Cross they had found in the forest a few nights before.

They were all still in shock. They did not want to believe what they had been told. Hogan, a traitor. A traitor to his country. A traitor to his work. A traitor to his loved ones. How, out of all people, had Hogan been the one to commit such an act. Their commanding officer was loyal, compassionate, caring, honest, gentle, and honorable to the end. He would never go into the line of the Gestapo. He would die and bleed to death before doing so. He _hated_ the Gestapo. He hated everything they did and stood for. They were a group of inhumane beings committing such immoral crimes. What was worse was that most of the time, if not all of it, they did their methods of torture and cruelty to innocent lives. Thousands, _millions_ of lives had died under the hand of the Gestapo, and Hogan knew that all too well. It was one of the many reasons he tended to be a bit softer with his consequences to the enemy. Harsh and laying down the law, but not sick and iniquitous...or _violent_! If there was one thing that stood out in Hogan compared to other commanding officers in the world, it was that he never... _ever_ hurt another human being for pleasure or discipline. The only time he turned violent was in self defense or protecting another life in danger.

"He couldn't," Carter said meekly. "Colonel Hogan wasn't like that...he'd never leave us behind."

"Next time I see Hochstetter, you can bet every penny in your knickers that I'll shoot him. We'll see who's laughing then." Newkirk warned. He ached to hold a firearm at that moment. To go out and shoot every last German he laid eyes on. There was no mercy to him when it came down to Hogan's safety and health. If someone messed with their commanding officer, all four of his men made sure they suffered dire consequences. Hogan may have been kinder with his methods, but the Englishman certainly was not. If he wanted revenge, he would make sure that his victim knew who the bigger hand was and make that very loud and clear.

"Colonel Hogan...a member of the Gestapo...do you know what will happen if that's true?" LeBeau asked, weary.

"We're finished, mate...if the Gov'nor gives Hochstetter just one bit of information on us or what we do, we're as good as targets in a firing squad." Newkirk answered, glum.

"Should we evacuate camp and blow this place to bits?" Carter suggested. It was the last thing he wanted to do, but he would follow Hogan's wishes if it ever came down to the exposure of their operation.

"I'd rather eat me own hand before abandoning the Gov'nor here!" Newkirk remarked, harsh.

"Pierre's right, _mon ami_. I'm not going anywhere without Colonel Hogan at our sides." LeBeau added.

"Gee...it was just a suggestion," Carter said softly.

Newkirk sighed, and his face softened at his best friend.

"I understand the thought, mate, but we can't do that now. Not with the Gov'nor working with Hochstetter at least. And as much as I don't want to go against the Colonel's orders, we ain't leaving this dump with one man missing."

"This family's gotta stick together, right, André?" LeBeau asked, forcing a small grin.

Carter smiled softly hearing their team being referred to as 'family'. They _were_ a family, and LeBeau was right. Families stuck together until death. Hogan would not leave one of them behind, and Carter and the rest would not do the same to him.

The fake bunk opened, and Kinch stepped out into the barracks and closed the entrance. He was holding a blue piece of paper in his hands and made his way to sit down next to Carter.

"You hear from Otto, Kinch?" The young sergeant asked.

"Sure did," he said. The staff sergeant handed Newkirk the note, and the British corporal began reading.

"4674 registered to Gestapo Lieutenant Benjamin 'Ben' Macher. Age 22, born September 15, 1920. He's a 5'9" man, wavy light brown hair, gray blue eyes, and serves under Major Hochstetter's command."

"Major Hochstetter, huh? Think he might know something about _mon Colonel_?" LeBeau asked, curious.

"I don't have a doubt in my mind, Louis." Kinch answered.

"Let's go down there and give 'im a piece of our minds!" Newkirk hissed.

"Easy there, soldier," Kinch said, waving his friend to sit down. "I've got a plan, but we've got to do it at the right time. In the right place."

"What do you have in mind, buddy?" Carter asked.

LeBeau walked towards the table, and Kinch began explaining his idea.

* * *

Night soon fell, and after evening roll call, Newkirk dressed in his blacks made his way out of camp and into the forest. He knew Gestapo patrols had increased since Hogan's 'kidnapping' had been announced. Major Bock had doubled patrols and doubled Klink's guards around camp searching for the American and/or his captor.

He made his way silently and swiftly through trees, bushes, and debris searching for a good hiding place for spying on patrols wandering by. Finding a big fat bush, Newkirk got down on his knees and immediately blended in with the night's scenery. He found two holes to use for peeping and quietly made himself comfortable. After getting settled, he began his scan for anyone fitting Macher's description.

Several patrols came and went, and no one matching Macher's physical characteristics came through. It was beginning to frustrate the Englishman. He knew if this plan failed, then he and his comrades would have to take a gamble and go to Gestapo Headquarters to retrieve the Gestapo lieutenant. It also meant taking a risk and praying that Hochstetter, let alone Hogan himself, did not find out and deal with them. If Hogan had truly switched sides, who knew what he would appear as or act like. It made Newkirk shiver thinking of his commanding officer in such manners. He hated the idea of his colonel working for the prominent and fierce Gestapo. The man knew how to cause serious harm and mental trauma to people, he knew how to trick others as easily as blinking his eyes. Hogan could possibly be the cause of Germany winning the war!

Newkirk shuddered hard at his thoughts and pushed them aside. He was doing this _for_ Hogan. He was doing this for the commanding officer he and his friends knew and cared for. He would make sure that Hogan got his justice, and his captors suffered their ultimate wrath in revenge. With a cleared mind, Newkirk lowered his eyes again, fixed his composure, and resumed his duty.

After a few more patrols passed through, the one the Englishman had been searching for had been found. The man in charge of the group, a burly major with a bushy black mustache, had about seven or so members in his party. One being Lieutenant Macher, three others being captains, and the remaining three being sergeants. The young lieutenant was at the end of the line and began scanning the area for anything suspicious as did the others. Macher was more curious in finding his German Cross than Hogan's false captor at the moment.

" _Herr Major_ , I have found nothing in these perimeters," a captain said.

The major turned to face the man and sighed with frustration.

"This is the seventh place we've searched in four nights and yet we find _nothing_!" He spat.

"There are many more parts of the area surrounding Stalag 13 to be searched, Sir." Another captain replied.

"I'm just concerned regarding Major Bock. If we keep coming up empty handed…" The major paused and seemed to start emanating fear off of his body. "We're done for."

"Major Bock does not handle failure well, _Herr Major_." The first captain answered softly.

"You know what _Herr Bock_ does to people who fail him; they vanish and are never heard from again." A sergeant quivered.

The major shook his head and within the blink of an eye, regained his authoritative demeanor.

" _Mach! Schnell_! We are leaving!" He barked.

The seven men followed behind him and made their way to their next area of search. Macher began following a little while after his group had left, getting so caught up in finding his cross. He sighed sadly and made his way where his group had wandered off to. He passed by the bush Newkirk was hiding behind, and at the right moment, the Englishman shot up from his hiding place and covered his mouth over Macher.

The young man started screaming into Newkirk's hand, but could not be heard being muffled. With his other hand, Newkirk swung a thick tree branch he had high in the air and clobbered Macher over the head with it. The Gestapo lieutenant fell limp and silent, then was released to fall to the ground. Newkirk looked down and glared at the man with flames and fury burning in his eyes.

"Yah dirty bastard. That's what yah get for hurting the Gov'nor!" He hissed.

Newkirk came out from behind the bush, picked up the lieutenant in his arms, and made his walk back to camp quickly.

* * *

Back in the tunnels and dressed in his Allied uniform, Newkirk tied Macher tight to a chair. His hands behind his back, his legs tied to the chair's feet, and his torso also tied to the chair as well. Newkirk took every precaution possible while tying the man up. He would not let this man get away so easily. He intended to make Macher pay in every way possible. He'd beat the living hell out of him had it not been for Kinch giving the orders.

The Gestapo officer's head dangled to the right and hung lifelessly on his shoulder. It made Newkirk wonder how hard he had actually hit the man in the head. He was alive and would regain consciousness, yes, but when he might do so was foggy yet.

Finished with his job, the Englishman stepped back and stared at Macher with pure hate. He crossed his arms, leaned against the wall, and pointed a pistol at the man in case he were to wake up. Newkirk shook his head, as he glared at the prisoner before him. He was disgusted with the man and what he had taken part of with the Gestapo.

"I sure hope I gave yah a bloody concussion. That's not even _near_ close to how bad I really wanna hit yah." He snarled.

The sound of footsteps could be heard and soon enough, Kinch, Carter, and LeBeau had made their entrance.

"Did you get him?" The Frenchman asked.

"I got 'im alright. Flogged him right over the head." Newkirk remarked, sinister.

Carter cocked his head slightly and looked perplexed.

"Flogged?"

"It means 'whack', 'hit'," Kinch said, clarifying.

"Oh."

LeBeau turned to look at their prisoner and glared at him.

"Why if I don't get my hands on him…" He was about to go in and sock the unconscious man in the jaw, when a firm grip grabbed his shoulders. It was Kinch.

"Easy there, Louis. Let's not get carried away here," the staff sergeant said calmly.

"That filthy bosche deserves to _die_ after what he did to _mon Colonel_!"

"You ain't the only one who wants a go at the bloody bastard." Newkirk chimed in coldly.

Macher started giving a low moan, fluttered his eyes open, and once his vision cleared up, he shot up in his chair and gaped at the four Allied soldiers before him. All four of them were staring him down, giving him cold, dead glares that made him shiver. Who were they? Where was he? Where did these men come from?

"Oh look; someone decided to wake up," Newkirk said, with a callous smile.

"Who are you? Where am I?" Macher demanded.

"Don't worry...no one will even notice you're gone." Kinch answered softly.

Macher swallowed a little.

"Who are you men? How did I get here?" He asked, again.

"Why don't yah ask your commanding officer, Major Hochstetter?" Newkirk suggested coolly.

"Or _Colonel Hogan_!" LeBeau hissed.

"Colonel Hogan!...You work for him! You're his men!" Macher gasped.

"Aw...poor Kraut ain't so stupid after all." Newkirk cooed sourly.

Macher swallowed again. This time a bit harder.

"What do you men want with me? I have nothing to offer you."

"That's what _you_ think, Lieutenant," Kinch said. His voice was so calming, it terrified the young German.

"We know you saw what happened to the Gov'nor...and we wanna know what it was," Newkirk said.

"I know nothing. Now let me go, or I will have Major Hochstetter after you four! You're lucky I don't tell him now!" Macher snarled.

"Major Hochstetter thinks you're on patrol duty. He, nor anyone else, even knows you're missing...what do you think of _that_ , Lieutenant?" Kinch prodded.

Newkirk made his way towards Macher and pressed his pistol against the side of his head.

"What did yah do to the Gov'nor, Kraut? And chose your words carefully; I'm known to be a bit trigger happy." The British corporal warned.

Macher glared at all four of Hogan's men and kept quiet. He refused to surrender to the enemy. He may have wanted to stop Hochstetter from what he was doing to Hogan, but he still despised the Allies.

"Not talkin', huh?" Newkirk lowered the gun and stepped back towards his friends. He continued to keep his gun leveled and pointed at the lieutenant in case he tried anything. "So, you're gonna play it _that_ way."

"You'll never get me to talk! I'm a loyal German of the Third Reich!" Macher spat.

"Suit yourself." Kinch turned towards Newkirk. "Kill him." He ordered.

"Gladly," Newkirk said, without turning his head. He put his finger on the trigger and prepared to fire.

"NO! Don't... _please_ don't! I don't wanna die!" Macher pleaded.

"Then quit your bloody stubbornness and start talkin'! I got quite a temper mind you!"

The lieutenant shivered and flicked his eyes from one of them to the next until his eyes came back to the first one. He had never been more terrified in his life. He was almost as terrified of them as he was of Hochstetter. From what he remembered Hogan as on the first day they met, he never thought the men under his command could be so ruthless. He was wrong. These men were bloodthirsty...and he was their source for revenge.

"I didn't do it...I only watched. It was Hochstetter's idea, not mine!" Macher quivered.

" _What_ was Hochstetter's idea?" Kinch asked softly.

"...I can't tell you…"

"Why not?!" Newkirk snarled.

"Please...if Major Hochstetter finds out I squealed, God knows _what_ he'll do to me!" Macher begged.

"Serves you right, you filthy bosche!" LeBeau hissed.

"Why? Why did you hurt Colonel Hogan like that?!" Carter sneered. The young sergeant usually was not the one that spoke in these situations, but when it came to his commanding officer and his best friend, Carter would defend Hogan till the very day he died.

"I didn't touch him! It was Captain Fritz and Major Hochstetter that did the most of it! I just followed orders given! You must believe me!" The lieutenant cried.

Kinch let out a heavy sigh.

"Forget it, guys. He's not talking tonight," he said.

"He will if _I_ have something to do with it." Newkirk growled. He lifted his gun up again and got ready to fire.

"Shooting him will do us no good. We'll still be in the dark about what happened to the Colonel."

"I say we torture him slowly. _That'll_ get him to talk." LeBeau suggested.

Kinch turned to look at Newkirk and gestured towards Macher.

"Gag him, Newkirk. We don't want anyone to hear him screaming," he said.

Without a word, the British man picked up a dirty washcloth and shoved it inside Macher's mouth. After making sure it was secure, Newkirk returned to his friends and turned back to look at him again.

"I'll take the first watch over him. Have Olsen come down for me in three hours," Newkirk said.

"Watch him closely. I'd hate to see him get shot while trying to escape," Kinch said softly.

Macher gave muffled whimpers, and his eyes were begging for mercy.

Newkirk sat down on a bench in the room to watch their captive, while the rest of the men headed up to the barracks for the night. Kinch was about to follow Carter and LeBeau up stairs, when he turned back around and gave a sinister smile to Macher.

"Wait till you see what Papa Bear's cubs are capable of."


	14. Chapter 14

**Chapter 14:**

"I just don't know where else to _look_ for him, Major Schmidt. I have Major Bock of the Gestapo investigating just about every inch surrounding this camp," Klink said, on the phone. The camp kommandant had called his friend of Stalag 7 to see if he had seen any sign of Hogan or his kidnapper. Sadly, the camp kommandant there had seen nothing either.

Schmidt said something over the phone to Klink that irritated him.

"Well, where else could they be; the Russian Front?" The colonel gulped quickly after saying that and worried that being a possibility. "You don't think they're at the Russian Front, do you?"

Schmidt spoke again.

"Are you absolutely _sure_ that you haven't seen Colonel Hogan or a suspicious looking man around that area?...None of your guards have found anything...will you keep your eye out for him in case?... _Danke_ , Aloïs...huh?...No, I have not seen three of your prisoners around here...they randomly vanished?!...But how?...No, you would not be asking me if you knew...Aloïs, maybe they're just hiding inside a barracks somewhere...you've checked all barracks...of course you have...maybe they're…" Klink never finished his sentence, when the door to his office slammed open, and Hochstetter stormed in followed by Fritz. Seeing he had company, Klink swallowed a knot in his throat. "Call you back, _Herr Major_...huh?...Oh yeah, _Heil Hitler_."

After hanging up the phone, Klink saluted Hochstetter while fighting back the urge to tremble under his stare.

Hochstetter returned the same salute with Fritz, then the short Gestapo major made his way closer to Klink.

"Major Hochstetter...what brings you out here on such short notice?" The German colonel questioned, weary.

"Klink, I've received interesting news from Berlin within the last few days. Apparently, your Colonel Hogan has mysteriously been kidnapped, _ja_?"

" _Jawohl, Herr Major_. There's a 5000 German marks reward for whoever finds him or the kidnapper. Why? Do you know where he is?" The last part Klink said anxious. Had Hochstetter found him, he wondered.

"I would like to report he is no longer missing."

"Where is he? Major, I want my prisoner back in my camp...please," Klink cautiously said.

Hochstetter fell silent. He continued to just stand there with Fritz and stare at the man.

After several minutes passed by of pure silence, something clicked in Klink's mind, and his mouth dropped. It was Hochstetter who was the kidnapper!

" _You_! You're the one who kidnapped Colonel Hogan!" He gasped.

Again, there was no answer from either Gestapo officer.

The German colonel looked at them stunned a bit longer, then snapped into an authoritative manner and went for his phone.

"I must report this to Major Bock. And when he gets here, _you_ , Major, will be in _serious_ trouble!" He was just about to grab the phone, when a strong and firm hand grabbed hold of Klink's wrist and latched on so tight, he was afraid the hand would break his bones. Klink turned his eyes upward fearful and nearly dropped dead when he saw the sight before him.

There, standing before him, wearing a Gestapo uniform and holding a pistol at his forehead, was Hogan himself. His once kind brown eyes were now nearly black and lifeless. A man who once was friendly and carefree now looked like some satanic spirit sent from Hell to wreak havoc on all of them.

Klink froze, his body began shaking looking into those eyes. He hardly recognized the man anymore. This was not the Colonel Hogan he had once known. The Colonel Hogan he knew was not there. Someone else was instead.

"...Hogan…" Klink said, in a hoarse whisper.

"Pick up that phone, and I shoot you right here." Hogan's voice answered. Even that did not sound the same. It was dark, deep...malicious.

The older colonel could not move his eyes from his once Senior POW Officer. He could not believe his eyes or ears. Hogan, a villain. That was mere impossible in Klink's mind. Hogan was devious and caused numerous amounts of mischief, but if there was one thing he was not, it was that he was not mean. And here he was: a Gestapo colonel working with Hochstetter.

Once he semi came out of shock, Klink slowly moved his hand from his office phone and laced both of his hands together in his lap slowly.

Hogan grinned coolly and chuckled gently.

"That's a good boy," he said softly.

Slowly and cautiously, Klink rose to his feet, made his way carefully to the front, then stood before his Senior POW. He just could not get what he was seeing to register in his mind. It was Hogan standing there, but it was not Hogan. This man he had never met before. This man he had never seen before. He did not even know who this man was. He stepped closer towards him enough to whisper to him, but stood back far enough he was out of reach from possible harm.

"Hogan...is that you?" He asked softly.

The Gestapo colonel gave a faint smile.

"I see you remember me, Klink." He answered.

"What happened, Hogan? Hochstetter put you up to this, didn't he."

"The Major has put me up to nothing, Kommandant. I chose this by my own will. And might I say it feels good to be on the other side."

Klink gulped.

"The other side?"

" _Ja_. You know, the side where _I'm_ in control... _I_ cause the harm... _I_ am the upper hand instead of the underdog."

Klink shook his head. He did not want to believe his only friend was now his greatest enemy.

"Oh, Hogan," he croaked. "What have they done to you?"

The facial expression on Hogan's face switched so quickly, the kommandant hardly knew what happened. Hogan's face changed from calm and cool to one of anger and fire burning in his eyes. He snapped his pistol up and had it pointed at Klink's chest. He started making his way closer to the man, who was backing away from him just as quickly.

"How _dare_ you ask me such a question! Ask me that again, Klink, and I'll kill you right in this very office! Is that what you want, Klink?!" Hogan hollered.

"No, _Herr Colonel_ , I'll never ask you again!" The kommandant in question yelped. He trembled and held his hands to defend himself.

After nothing but a pure glare of hate at him, Hogan slowly took his pistol and put it away.

Klink sighed in relief slightly. The mental state his old friend was in now made it unfeasible to relax.

 _Oh, Hogan_ , Klink thought to himself. _Where are you, Hogan? Come back to us...wherever you are_.

* * *

Kinch, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau sat at the table with cups of coffee planning their next move, get information out of Macher, and bring Hogan home to them again.

"I say we torture the bastard. If he ain't talking voluntarily, I'll make him talk by force." Newkirk growled.

"I will help." LeBeau added, eager.

"We're not torturing him. Something's weird about this guy. I think he's telling us the truth about his involvement with the Colonel," Kinch said softly.

"You're mad!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"Now, hold on a minute. Let me finish here." The staff sergeant was about to go on, when the door to the barracks opened, and Baker rushed in.

"Gestapo's here! Colonel Hogan's with them!" He gasped, from running.

The four of Hogan's men shot to their feet and sprinted towards the Kommandantur. Once reaching Klink's office, Kinch yanked the door open and all four men bursted into the room, then nearly fainted at the sight they saw. There was Klink, Hochstetter, another Gestapo officer, a captain, and a face that was at one point a familiar one and friend...but it was not one any longer. Who was standing there was not Hogan. Who was standing there was not a man that brought them joy, but their worst nightmare.


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N:** Alright, folks. I'm moving back to college tomorrow (sad face), so I wanted to post this chapter today in case I don't have time tomorrow to seek internet access. Here's chapter 14!

* * *

 **Chapter 15:**

"Colonel!" Carter cried.

All of Hogan's men made their way roughly into the office and tried to get near their colonel.

"Get away from him!" Kinch ordered.

"Filthy bosche!" LeBeau hissed.

"Let me kill 'em, Kinch. Let me kill 'em!" Newkirk spat.

"What did you do to him?!" LeBeau demanded.

Fritz, who was standing at Hogan's side, pulled his gun out and pointed it at the four of them.

"I suggest you step away from the Colonel, gentlemen. I have orders from _Herr Colonel_ to shoot and kill if necessary," the captain said coldly.

"Shoot!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"Kill?" Carter shivered.

"Gentlemen," Hogan said friendly. "May I have a few minutes with these men?"

" _Jawohl_ , Hogan. We are outside if you need us." Hochstetter answered, grinning.

The Gestapo colonel smirked.

" _Danke, Herr Major_."

Hochstetter, Klink, and Fritz left the room and closed the door behind them. Once gone, Newkirk, Carter, Kinch, and LeBeau made their way quickly towards Hogan.

"Colonel, you're alive!" LeBeau cried, thankful.

"What happened, Sir? Are you alright?" Kinch asked, worried.

"Who do you want me to kill, Sir? I'll kill the dirty bastard, just give me the word!" Newkirk hissed.

Hogan cocked his head to the side slightly and smiled. He lifted his pistol from its holster, pointed it at them, then his face grew dark with rage.

"All of you. Against the wall!" He ordered harshly.

Terrified, Kinch, LeBeau, and Carter raised their hands and did as Hogan told them. Newkirk turned to look at his friends behind him, laughed softly, then turned back to his commanding officer.

"Alright, Gov'nor. It's us, Sir. No need for the act any longer now," he said, grinning.

"Perhaps I did not make myself clear...Against the wall, Englander! _Mach schnell_!" Hogan barked.

"Yes, Sir." Newkirk trembled. He hurried to the wall with his friends, turned around, and stared at the man before them.

Hogan was thin... _very_ thin. His black hair made his pale skin look almost immortal. His eyes charcoal black and shining with malice and horror within them. His presence was not one of warmth and welcome. It was one of fear and intimidation. The commanding officer they knew and loved was no longer there.

"Colonel...what's the matter?" Kinch asked.

"You're acting like you don't wanna see us again." Carter quivered.

Hogan chuckled lightly.

"Oh, Carter," he said. "You always _were_ the innocent one, weren't you. You're lucky I haven't ratted you boys out yet. And won't Hochstetter be so pleased when he finds out all about this little operation of ours. A huge victory for the Third Reich, will it not?"

"Colonel, this isn't funny." LeBeau trembled.

"Yeah, snap out of it, Sir." Carter pleaded.

"Why? Don't like my new change in profession? I thought you men would be proud of my little promotion," Hogan said sweetly. So sweet it was mortifying.

"Gov'nor," Newkirk gasped. "What did they _do_ to you?"

The expression on the American officer's face flashed immediately to one of malice and anger.

"None of your damn business, that's what!" He snapped. He turned to look at all four of them. "I waited there in that cell...patiently, quietly, praying to God that you four would show up and bail me out! My own men turned their backs on me and made no effort to try and rescue me!"

"We didn't know, Colonel. We thought you died when the plane went down that night," Kinch said softly.

"As soon as we found out, we were planning a rescue attempt faster than you could imagine, Sir." Newkirk added hesitantly. He had no idea what might set the man off at this state.

"Well, it failed! I have bruises and healing scars on my back, belly, arms, and legs if you even wish to _see_ what kinda torture I endured in that cell! Screaming out in pain and agony, hoping to God that I'd die from the pain or a miracle that Hochstetter and his men would stop! Well guess what?! They didn't! None of yah cared about it, none of yah!" Hogan snarled.

"That's not true, Colonel. You know we'd jump in front of a train for you!" Kinch protested.

"Then why was I left in that cell, Sergeant?! Answer me!" Hogan hollered.

"We didn't _know_ , Colonel. If we had known sooner, we would've been there in the blink of an eye. Newkirk and LeBeau were even sent to Headquarters to retrieve you and bring you home, when Fire Wind stopped them and told them to leave. That something had gone wrong."

The colonel laughed sinisterly.

"He did, did he? I'll hate to watch him die when the time comes. I'd kill you four, but I need you alive a little longer! And I promise you once I'm finished with all of you, I'll shoot you so quick you won't have time to think about it!"

"No...Colonel, no!" Carter pleaded. The young sergeant was fighting back tears in his eyes and shaking his head softly.

"I want my Colonel Hogan back! The man who was kind, giving, compassionate, and humane!" LeBeau spat. His sight was becoming blurry, and his eyes were starting to burn.

"Who are you? What did you do with our Gov'nor?!" Newkirk hissed.

"United States Army Air Corps. Colonel Robert Hogan is dead! Gestapo Colonel Hogan was born." He answered, bitter. There was a moment of silence before Hogan gestured towards the door. "Get out."

"Not without you, Colonel. We're _not_ leaving without you!" LeBeau croaked.

"I said 'get out'! _Now_ , or I shoot! _Schnell, schnell_!" He barked.

Hogan's men yanked the office door open and quickly made their way out of sight.

Once they were gone, Hogan started chuckling softly until it elevated to a full blown cackle.

* * *

Carter sat at the table in the barracks clutching Hogan's bomber jacket and cried softly. Memories of Hogan flooded back to him all at once. Late night assignments, secret meetings, old camp shenanigans, Hogan sitting besides him at the table with his usual cup of hot coffee, his favorite memories of going to see Hogan in his quarters and having one of their talks. How his commanding officer would sit there quietly and listen to the young sergeant tell him what was bugging him or uneasy about, then give him the best advice he could to make him feel better. No matter where they were, no matter what time of day or night, Hogan had always been there for him and the others. He laughed with them in good times, comforted them in bad, encouraged them when hopeless. He wanted his colonel back...he wanted his best friend back.

LeBeau was cutting onions for dinner to hide the fact he was crying himself. Seeing his commanding officer the way that he had been was heart shattering. He never thought they would lose Hogan in the way that they did so. Their best friend had become their biggest nightmare and threat to the operation. The poor little Frenchman did not know how to take it all in. He did not know how to make it register in his mind. He did not _want_ it to register in his mind. Believing that Hogan was now an enemy was something LeBeau never wanted to admit to. He knew, however, that it was true. There was no way of going around it. Hogan was gone. There was no way of bringing him back again. They were now on their own.

The door to Hogan's old quarters slammed open, and Newkirk steamed right past his friends and towards the fake bunk. Kinch ran quickly behind the Englishman and tried to stop him.

"Newkirk, stop!" He ordered. "Colonel Hogan wouldn't have wanted it this way!"

"That bleedin' Kraut dies! He took the Gov'nor from us, and I'm gonna make him suffer as much as he made him!" He banged the mechanism forcefully, and the tunnel entrance came into view. As Newkirk made his descent, Kinch made one more attempt of changing his stubborn friend's mind.

"How would Colonel Hogan feel if he were here right now? What would he think of you acting this way?"

"You ain't changing me mind this time, mate! I'll kill the bloody bastard and everyone else along with him!"

Newkirk disappeared from sight and stormed his way towards his victim.

Kinch snapped his head towards LeBeau and signaled him to follow.

"Come on, Louis," he said urgently. "Before Newkirk makes a big mistake."

The African American and little Frenchman hurried their way down the ladder and tried to catch up with Newkirk as quickly as possible.

* * *

The British corporal made his way through the tunnels swiftly and with purpose. He had a pistol clenched in his hand and was blind mad. He saw nothing but red and had only one thought in mind: kill Lieutenant Macher.

Once he reached his destination, Newkirk snapped on his boots into the room where Baker was guarding Macher. Both men seeing the Englishman the way he was directed both of their attentions towards him. Newkirk marched up to the gagged lieutenant, yanked the cloth out of his mouth, then gripped his shirt collar in his left fist tightly and pointed the pistol at his head with his right. He brought the man's face closer to his until Newkirk's breath could be felt on his skin. His eyes stared into the Gestapo officer's soul. Nothing but white flames of hate and revenge burned in his bright blue eyes.

"What the bloody hell did you do to him? What did you do to the Gov'nor?!" He hissed.

"I didn't do anything! I didn't do it, I swear!" Macher whimpered.

"Doesn't matter whether you cooperate with me or not, Kraut! You're dying either way! What did you do to Colonel Hogan?!"

"I didn't do it! I didn't do it, Corporal! Believe me, please!"

"LIAR! WHAT DID YOU DO TO COLONEL HOGAN?!"

"I didn't mean to hurt him! HELP! I WANNA LIVE! I WANNA LIVE!"

Baker ran towards Newkirk and tried getting the British man to move away from their prisoner.

"Let him go, Newkirk. You gotta calm down. He's telling the truth." He begged.

Kinch and LeBeau ran in and immediately assisted in getting their angry friend off of Macher. Kinch yanked Newkirk back, while Baker blocked off Macher, and LeBeau pushed him back to the wall.

"Get off of him, Newkirk!" Kinch ordered.

"Let go of him, Pierre! Get away from him!" LeBeau pleaded.

"Let me kill 'im! Let me kill 'im, Kinch! That bloody bastard deserves to die! Let me kill 'im!" Newkirk hollered.

"Calm down, Newkirk!" Kinch barked.

Macher shivered throughout his entire body and started to break down. He began to shake his head, closed his eyes shut, and wept softly.

"I didn't do it...I didn't mean to hurt him...I didn't mean to hurt him." He whimpered.

"What do you mean 'you didn't mean to hurt him'?" Kinch asked, suspicious. Newkirk continued struggling to break free from his friend's iron grasp. Sadly, the more he squirmed, the tighter Kinch's arms became around him.

Another set of footsteps could be heard running towards them, and Carter appeared shortly afterwards. The young sergeant quickly took in his surroundings and began to grow curious and anxious to know what had just taken place.

"What's going on?" He asked, worrisome.

"Newkirk nearly killed Lieutenant Macher, that's what." Baker answered, stunned still by what he just saw.

"Would have succeeded had it not been for you, mate." Newkirk growled.

Carter turned from looking at the English corporal to the sobbing Gestapo officer.

"What's wrong with him?" The young sergeant asked, pointing to their prisoner.

LeBeau turned to look at him, grew uncertain, then turned back to his friend.

"We're not sure," he said honestly.

Carter turned back to Macher and cocked his head to the side, trying to understand what was happening.

Once he got a better hold on himself, the Gestapo officer let out an uneasy breath and turned to his captors.

"It was Hochstetter and Fritz that did it...I only followed orders out of fear...what they did was inhuman! No man should have endured what your colonel endured in that cell!" He answered meekly.

"What did they do?" Kinch asked, sounding more like an order.

Macher swallowed a lump in his throat and fell silent again.

"Answer our questions, or I let Newkirk loose again," the staff sergeant said, more harsh.

The lieutenant sighed heavily and surrendered.

"Alright," he said sadly. "You win...I'll talk."

"What did they do to Colonel Hogan?"

Macher let out another breath of air before speaking.

"It started the night we brought him into Headquarters."


	16. Chapter 16

**Chapter 16:**

Carter, Newkirk, Kinch, LeBeau, and Baker surrounded Macher and listened intently to his words. If there was even a _chance_ at getting Hogan back, this would be a major aspect in doing so.

"We found your colonel wandering around in the forest the night we brought him into Gestapo Headquarters...Captain Fritz and I. When we had him settled in a cell, we went and reported him to Major Hochstetter, our commanding officer."

"There was your _first_ mistake," LeBeau said, smug while crossing his arms.

Kinch nudged him a bit to get him to go back and focus.

Macher continued.

"Once Hochstetter found out it was Colonel Hogan we had brought in, he went mad. Some of the things he wanted to do to your colonel...he didn't even sound human anymore."

"When's Hochstetter ever human?" Newkirk snarled.

"This was worse," he said, to the Englishman. Macher turned back to look at the group. "We went down to Colonel Hogan's cell, and he was awake. He asked who we were, and after I had introduced both I and Captain Fritz, Hochstetter made his appearance...your colonel's eyes grew wide and had terror within them...he did not seem quite with it, though...he was complaining about a migraine he had. I suspect the blow he took to the head from Fritz gave him a concussion."

"When did he get a blow to the head?" Kinch asked suspiciously.

"In the forest. Fritz took the back of his gun and smashed it over Colonel Hogan's head."

LeBeau shook his head, his face becoming slightly pink.

"Why if I get my hands on that man…" Baker gently placed a hand on the little Frenchman's shoulder.

"Easy, LeBeau," he said softly.

Once he had settled down, LeBeau turned back to listen more to Macher.

"At first, it was nothing more than Fritz and Hochstetter kicking and hitting him. Several places: the back, the legs, his arms, his belly...I think they went for the neck a couple of times, but I don't remember quite well. I had a few at him, but seeing how bad off he already was, I faked my kicks. I swung my foot hard at him, then tapped his body lightly in areas where he had been hit already to get him to moan...I don't like Americans, but I would never hit another person...not like that, at least."

"We're not too crazy about you Krauts, either," Kinch said softly.

Macher swallowed, nodded, and resumed speaking.

"Hochstetter kept asking him why he was in the forest in the first place...your colonel kept repeating he didn't know. At first, I thought it was just a scheme to get out of questioning, but my mind changed after a while. Your Colonel Hogan may be strong, but I could see the honesty in his eyes. He really had no idea what he was doing in the forest that night. Again, I suspect the concussion that made him forget. Minor amnesia I would call it, but I'm no doctor...then it became…" The lieutenant struggled to speak. It looked like what he had to say next made him ill. "That's when things became... _ugly_."

"What do you mean 'ugly'?" Baker asked, curious.

"Just as it sounds, Sergeant," Macher said. "What Hochstetter did to Colonel Hogan after the beatings were what started it all. This...mental snap, to call it bluntly. Hochstetter ordered Fritz and I to go out and retrieve his 'instruments' as he called them. It was a metal cart with a tray of injections and surgical tools on it. We held Colonel Hogan down, and Hochstetter took the scalpel...he kept asking your colonel the same question over and over again...every time he answered with the same thing, Hochstetter took the scalpel and made several cuts on your colonel's abdomen...poor man had it swollen enough as it was. This only made it worse."

"Bloody bastards…" Newkirk hissed.

" _Ja_...once the Major got bored of that, he took a needle and string to sew Colonel Hogan's incisions back up. He wanted the man alive as long as possible to get answers out of him...had he given the answers Hochstetter wanted to hear, he would have given anesthesia to put him to sleep while sewing him back up...but he didn't...and Hochstetter sewed your colonel back up without any pain medicine given to him...the screams he gave...I thought my ears would begin to bleed from the noise. Screams filled with pain, agony, torture…" Macher shook his head and closed his eyes. How much more pain did he have to put on these men? They had already lost their commanding officer and best friend from Hochstetter and Fritz's doing...must he make them suffer anymore with _how_ it happened?

Carter's eyes became wet and tears started streaming down his face. Seeing his young friend hurting, Kinch wrapped an arm around the young sergeant to comfort him like Hogan had always done.

"We're gonna get 'em back, Carter...don't worry," he said softly.

"I don't care about Hochstetter and Fritz...I want Colonel Hogan back...I want _our_ Colonel Hogan back." Carter whimpered.

"We're gonna do everything we can to _get_ him back. I promise."

The young sergeant nodded and wiped his eyes.

Kinch turned back to Macher and nodded.

"Go on," he said.

"I don't know if you _want_ to hear the rest." The lieutenant answered.

"You'll tell us the rest... _now_!" Newkirk snarled.

Macher sighed and nodded.

"After that had finished, we came back later, and Fritz gave him a shot of pure caffeine."

"What's that do?" LeBeau asked, worried.

"It makes a person sweat, grow hot, their heart pound hard and fast, dizzy, confused, exhausted, nauseated...if given the right amount, it could kill a person, too. Hochstetter made your colonel suffer through the effects after again not getting the answers he wanted."

"Why would someone do that to someone like Colonel Hogan?" LeBeau spat.

"Same reason Hochstetter did what he did after that. _That's_ how you lost your Colonel Hogan," Macher said sadly.

"What did he do?" Kinch asked.

The Gestapo lieutenant let out a shaky breath, swallowed, then spoke.

"Major Hochstetter somehow got a hold of each of your voices saying certain words and collaborated a tape recording of all four of you screaming and crying out for help...he had Fritz go out into the hall to an empty cell and pretend to shoot each of you one by one after Colonel Hogan refused to answer each time and begged Hochstetter to let you all go free. When Fritz fired his gun the last time, your colonel went mad...he screamed, he cried, he begged for mercy...then he fell silent...when he got to his feet, he was not the man he came in as any longer... _that_ is how the man you respected and cared for died."

"Filthy bosche!" LeBeau hissed.

"I'll kill them and everyone in that bloody building!" Newkirk snarled.

"Why didn't you try to stop them if you truly hated what you were witnessing?" Kinch ordered, in disgust.

"How would I be here talking to _you_ men now had I'd stood up to Hochstetter?! Had I stepped in then, I would have been killed, and Colonel Hogan would _still_ be mad!" Macher spat. "I don't know if you hadn't noticed, but it isn't exactly easy being the enemy either! Being stereotyped by every opposing country as a blood sucking leech and a crazy mad man! I will forever be grateful to Hitler for getting us out of the Great Depression we suffered, but what he's doing now is inhuman! You Allies aren't the only ones that want to stop him! I loved Germany, and now my beautiful country is turning into a nightmare! Did your Colonel Hogan accuse all Germans like you're doing now?!"

No one answered. The room fell dead silent. Macher was right. Hogan had never accused a person being good or bad based on their nationality, religion, race, and so on. He took a minute to get to know a person before deciding that factor. He hated prejudice. He hated discrimination. He hated anything that involved making someone look weaker or demonic based on something that did not even matter in the end. If he had thought every German was evil, Hogan would not have trusted over half of the people in the underground, risked his life numerous times to get innocent lives out of Germany, sacrificed himself to help those resisting Hitler stay safe and help them with their mission to stop him, too. In fact, Hogan would have been _ashamed_ in all of them for how they were becoming: selfish, arrogant, cruel, and judgmental. He would have been heartbroken to see what was becoming of his men and his operation just because he was gone, and that last thought was the one that killed Hogan's men most of all. They were becoming just like the _Nazis_ were, and that realization made their hearts ache and mourn over Hogan all over again.

Kinch shook his head just barely noticeable to Macher and Baker.

"No...he didn't," he said painfully.

LeBeau's eyes began to water, realizing what was happening to them.

" _Mon Colonel_ would be _ashamed_ of us for what we're becoming." The little Frenchman choked.

"We're turning into Krauts _ourselves_...instead of working together, we're turning against one another." Newkirk answered meekly.

"We're dishonoring Colonel Hogan and everything he stood for," Carter said, meek.

"Carter's right," Kinch said. "We've gotta stop this and put our feelings aside...we have to do this for Colonel Hogan. We're fighting for him... _he's_ the one that needs _us_ , now."

" _Oui_...I will fight for Colonel Hogan if it means my life!" LeBeau spoke proud, tears streaming down his face.

"Me too, mate. After everything the Gov'nor did for us, it's time to pay him back." Newkirk added.

Kinch rubbed Carter's back gently and turned to Macher.

"You in with us, Lieutenant?" He asked.

"On one condition," Macher said, somber.

"Which is?"

"When we've successfully accomplished this assignment, I want out of this country. I have a friend in Italy who works with the resistance and would gratefully take me into safety. I will not be safe here after helping the enemy."

"How's London sound?"

"They'll _kill_ me!"

"Leave that to me, Lieutenant. Once I'm done with them, you'll be a hero instead of a criminal."

Macher swallowed hard and put his trust in the African American.

"Alright...I'm trusting you," he said softly.

"And how do we know you won't turn on us and are just faking the whole act?" Newkirk asked suspiciously.

"Colonel Hogan didn't judge people for being German, but he certainly took measures to make sure they weren't liars." LeBeau added, stern.

"Prove your loyalties," Kinch said, firm.

"How can I prove _anything_ when you have me tied up like this?!" Macher snapped.

Kinch, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau turned to each other with precarious looks to their faces.

"Should we ask London for information on him?" LeBeau asked quietly.

"If we tell London about _anything_ that's happened in the last week, we'll be immediately ordered to shut down the place and forced to leave without even _trying_ to save the Colonel," Kinch said. He shook his head. "No, London's gotta stay out of the loop for a while...for _now_ , at least. I'll call the underground and ask them to investigate on this guy."

"And if he turns out to be a German traitor?" Newkirk questioned.

"Then he goes with us."

* * *

After many hours of waiting, Kinch came up from the tunnels and closed the entrance. He walked over to his friends sitting at the table and sat down besides them.

"What did Otto have to say?" LeBeau asked.

"He says to trust the guy. According to him and several records he could get a hold of from Gilbert, Macher's friend in Italy is one of our most trusted underground contacts, New Moon." The staff sergeant answered.

"Macher knows New Moon?" Carter gasped.

"Sure does. They've been good friends even before the war started. Besides the fact of not being too fond of the Allies, what Macher says is true. He doesn't like Hitler, and he doesn't like the Nazis. He went into the Gestapo in order to avoid being drafted into the German Army and out of fear. He knew Hochstetter had high status within the Gestapo, and went under his command in 1937. He's one of us, guys."

"Well...if Otto and Gilbert say he's alright...and he knows New Moon...I guess he's alright."

"And just to make certain, I just got off the line with New Moon himself. Says Macher can be trusted."

"If New Moon says it's alright, then I can think the same," LeBeau said.

"Count me in, mate. If anyone can help us get the Gov'nor back, it's him," Newkirk said softly.

Kinch nodded.

"Well then, let's go tell Macher the news."

The four of Hogan's men got up and entered into the tunnels. It was a few minutes of a walk before they made their way into the tunnel where Olsen was now guarding the Gestapo officer. They made their way to Macher and stood in front of him looking down at him.

"Well?" The Gestapo officer asked. His voice was mixed with slight irritation and slight anxiety.

Kinch was silent for a brief moment before answering.

"You're in...but you remain guarded down here. We can't risk a chance of you escaping and squealing."

"Why would I squeal when you and I are fighting the same enemy?" Macher asked, annoyed.

"It's just a safety precaution, nothing more."

The lieutenant grumbled under his breath, but agreed.

"Well...what do we do first, Kinch?" LeBeau asked, ready for action.

"First, we need a way to get to the Colonel without risk of being shot or discovered. We have to get to him before we can try to bring him back." Kinch answered. He started pacing back and forth, trying to think of an idea.

"Can I at _least_ be untied if I'm going to be helping you gentlemen?" Macher asked.

"Newkirk, untie him...but watch him carefully. You too, Olsen."

"Got it, mate," Newkirk said.

"Yes, Kinchloe," Olsen said.

Newkirk untied Macher's ropes one by one until the man was free from his chair. The Gestapo lieutenant got to his feet, brushed himself off, then joined Hogan's men around Kinch.

"We gotta find a way to get into Headquarters without Hochstetter or the Colonel knowing about it...but _how_ , though?" Kinch questioned himself.

"Disguises?" Carter suggested.

"It may work for Hochstetter, but Colonel Hogan would recognize us from a mile away. He's too smart is our problem. It takes serious skill to dumbfound the Colonel."

"We need something not even the Gov'nor can expect," Newkirk said, troubled. Dealing with any other officer in the Gestapo, usual plans would get by just fine. Considering this officer was their colonel, it took 'dumbfounded' to a whole new level none of them were familiar with. They were walking in new and unblemished territory. And with a Gestapo lieutenant now on their side, too. How things had changed dramatically within the last week.

"I know how you can get to Colonel Hogan without detection," Macher said, firm.

All four of Hogan's men turned to the lieutenant and looked at him carefully.

"You do, huh," Kinch said, crossing his arms.

"How?" LeBeau asked, skeptical.

"Colonel Hogan's office is on the second floor right over mine on the first. One of you could climb into his office in disguise, find any information you need on your commanding officer, then leave through the window without anyone ever knowing about it." Macher answered.

Kinch let out a deep breath.

"It might just work, Lieutenant," he said.

"Are you sure we can get passed the Colonel?" LeBeau questioned, worried.

"Your colonel may be very intelligent, but no man is a genius. Some things not even _he_ can decipher." The lieutenant spoke.

"He's right, you know," Newkirk said softly.

Kinch nodded.

"He makes a valid point...alright. We'll do your idea...but how do we execute it is the question." The staff sergeant added.

"Are any of you men quick and silent?" Macher asked, scanning each man trying to find the answer himself.

"You want quick and silent, Newkirk here's your man," Kinch said.

"I had a feeling your Englishman was the one that caused mischief around here."

Newkirk blushed.

"Now, Lieutenant, don't go startin' that. You're gonna insult me soon," the corporal said, grinning.

"You'll be the one that sneaks into Colonel Hogan's office. Your youngest man and the little Frenchman will stay down on the ground as lookouts. I will come in normally and stand guard at the colonel's office as if I am waiting for his return," Macher said.

"If we see Hochstetter or Colonel Hogan, what should our signal be?" Carter asked, curious.

Macher thought for a bit before a light bulb went off in his mind.

"If you see either one of them coming into the building, make the sound of a black stork."

LeBeau turned to the young sergeant.

"You're the nature/animal freak. I'll leave that to you," the little Frenchman said.

Carter nodded and made a very realistic black stork screech.

"Save it for later, Sergeant." Macher answered softly.

"Yes, Sir," Carter answered, timid.

Newkirk turned to look at Kinch.

"When do we do it, mate?" He asked.

Kinch looked at Macher, and Macher looked back at Kinch. The two of them exchanged looks, then they both nodded. The radioman turned back to look at his friends.

"Tonight," he said.


	17. Chapter 17

**Chapter 17:**

Hogan, Hochstetter, and Fritz were out that night at the Hofbrau having dinner. All three men were laughing and clinking glasses of beer with one another. The bartender and underground member, Norman, had been notified about Hogan's change in mental state and was doing as best as possible to stay out of sight from the three officers. However, he did once and awhile listen in on what the three men were talking about. The old underground agent hoped it would give him any information to send back to Hogan's men that would help get Papa Bear back on their side again. At the moment, Norman was in the kitchen hiding and listening in on the three Gestapo officers.

"Hogan," Hochstetter said kindly. "Since you are now on our side of the war, are there any uh... _secrets_ you'd be willing to share regarding the Allies...or a secret operation you might have been running, _ja_?"

Hogan chuckled and put his glass down on the table.

"Now, Major, what kinda Gestapo officer would I be if I didn't let out information at the right times. All in good time, Major. All in good time."

"Tell us _one_ secret, _Herr Colonel_. Just for now." Fritz prodded.

Hogan leaned back against the booth, placed his hands on his middle, and thought quietly to himself on what he should tell them for tonight.

Norman swallowed a huge knot in his throat, and his body began to shake violently from fear.

"Please, Papa Bear...I know you're in there still somewhere." The old man prayed, to the heavens.

Hogan laughed softly, cocked his head slightly, then turned his attention back to his new friends.

"I can manipulate Kommandant Klink like saying the alphabet," he said softly.

Hochstetter scoffed.

"That is no secret, my friend. A _toddler_ could outsmart that man."

All three officers started laughing with jolly.

"True...very true, Major!" Fritz cackled.

Norman sighed with relief silently.

He scanned for anyone watching him. Seeing no one, the old man grabbed his jacket and slipped out of the Hofbrau for the night.

* * *

Macher, Carter, LeBeau, and Newkirk got to Gestapo Headquarters around 10:30 that night. Parking a car stolen from the motor pool in a dark area, the Gestapo officer and the three of Hogan's men stepped out of the vehicle and made their way to the side of one of the building's walls. A five story building layered with bricks and that looked gray in the moonlight. It looked like Police Headquarters, yet haunted at the same time.

Macher was dressed in his Gestapo officer's uniform, and the three POWs were in their blacks. Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau looked up to the window on the second floor from where they stood. The light was out and curtains were pulled apart exposing the lock to open it.

"That's the Gov'nor's office?" Newkirk asked softly.

" _Ja_ ," Macher said. "Corporal LeBeau and Sergeant Carter will help you get up to the window. Once I see you have slipped in, I will go inside and upstairs acting like I am waiting for the Colonel to return. If your men see him or Hochstetter, then make the cry of a black stork. If _I_ see one of them, I will knock softly on the door twice."

"Call me Louis, _mon ami_ ," LeBeau said, smiling.

"You can call me Carter. That's alright." The sergeant added childishly.

"We can work out introductions later. Let's get moving." Newkirk hissed quietly.

" _Viel Glück_ ," Macher said. "Good luck."

"Thanks, mate."

The Gestapo lieutenant made his way to the end of the wall and out of sight. He looked to his left every so often to check for unwanted attention, then back to Hogan's men to see if Newkirk had not made his way inside Hogan's office yet.

"How do we get Newkirk up there?" Carter asked, uncertain.

The Englishman looked up at the window, then back down at his two friends.

"Louis, get on Andrew's back." He ordered.

"Why?" LeBeau asked, a bit disturbed.

"Would yah just do it?!"

"Alright, alright...don't get your knickers in a knot as you British say it!"

Carter got down on the ground on all fours, and LeBeau climbed on top of his back. Once situated, the little Frenchman looked up at Newkirk.

"Now what?" He asked, in a hushed tone.

"Stand on top of Andrew like he's doing on the ground."

LeBeau got to his feet and hands, then stood on the young sergeant as told.

Newkirk came around to the back of Carter and LeBeau and gently, but quickly, climbed on top of his friends and once on LeBeau's back, got to his feet and reached for the second story window.

"Aw, my back!" Carter whimpered softly.

"What are you eating these days, Pierre?" LeBeau groaned, through gritted teeth.

"Oh, sod off!" Newkirk hissed quietly.

"Colonel...help me!" Carter barely croaked.

Newkirk grabbed hold of the wall to keep himself balanced and with one hand, he went for the lock on the window and flicked the switch to the left. Hearing a small 'click' noise, the English corporal smiled roguishly.

"Got yah," he said softly.

"Oh God! Hurry it up, Newkirk! My back's gonna give out if this keeps up any longer!" Carter pleaded softly.

"Going as fast as I can, mate." Newkirk called, back down.

"Oh," the young sergeant said, hoarse.

The Englishman silently lifted the window open and once he made a big enough gap, slithered his way into Hogan's dark office and looked at his surroundings. What he saw made him want to vomit.

A furnished wooden oak desk with organized piles of paperwork, a phone sitting near the right corner, and a black leather chair behind it. There was a golden plaque in the front of the desk with Hogan's name and rank engraved within it. The walls were velvet red and several pictures of Hitler placed upon them. A black bookshelf filled with several psychology books within it now looking abandoned at this time of night. A few feet in front of the desk was a sitting area. Two red sofas and a red chair surrounded an old wooden coffee table with a tablecloth of the swastika and Gestapo symbol as the design.

Shuddering, Newkirk quickly regained control over himself and remembered his task at hands. If he and the rest of his friends were to get Hogan back, this was the first step that needed to be completed.

"Alright, Gov'nor...let's see what kinda dirt I can bring up here," he said, to himself.

He started scavenging around the office for documents, pictures, list of important names, and whatever else he could scrounge up that would help in getting his commanding officer back.

While Newkirk did his job inside the office, Macher stood guard outside scanning for any signs of Hogan and/or Hochstetter and Fritz with him. The young Gestapo lieutenant could not get it to wrap around his head. He did not understand why so many people in Germany thought that doing this to other human beings was alright. He was a proud German, and he loved his country, but he did not love it now. Not under Hitler's reign.

He was not fond of the Allies. That had been the same for as long as he could remember. How Great Britain, the USA, and France thought they were the dominant countries over everyone else. He may not have much affection towards the enemy, but the last thing Macher wanted to do was hurt another human being. It did not matter whether they were German or British. Black or white. Christian or Jewish. He could not see anyone else as being an animal or parasite infecting the world he lived in. And he could not see how so many people in his homeland had been brainwashed to think otherwise.

Macher looked down at his watch to check the time. Hogan would not be back for another half hour or more. He was growing a little anxious for Newkirk. Surprisingly, he was beginning to be alright with the Allied soldiers he currently was working with. They all had one common goal and that was to stop Hitler and bring back humanity to society. The Nazis, the Imperial Japanese government, to abolish their reign and hopefully bring peace between countries. Of course, there were their separate goals, too. Hogan's men to get their commanding officer back and revenge on Hochstetter, and Macher's goal to stop Hochstetter and Fritz and escape out of Germany until the war was over.

The German took in a deep breath of air to calm his nerves, then he resumed his duty as look out. He immediately regained his composure and started scanning for Hogan again.

* * *

Carter and LeBeau stayed alongside the walls in the shadows and every once and awhile scanned for Hogan or Hochstetter.

The young sergeant looked up to the window Newkirk had slipped into, then back at the little Frenchman again.

"What do you think he's doing up there?" He asked softly.

"Hopefully finding something that will help us get _mon Colonel_ back again," LeBeau said sadly.

"Louis...you think we'll get Colonel Hogan back this time?"

"I couldn't tell you, _mon ami_. It's pretty bad this time. Filthy bosche Hochstetter, had it not been for that tape recording of our voices, Colonel Hogan may be with us right now helping us with this."

Carter frowned and hung his head.

"Boy...I sure don't know what I'm gonna do without him, Louis...he just always knew what to say to make me feel better again."

" _Oui_...I agree. Colonel Hogan always seemed to know how to help us feel better even if we didn't tell him directly...he sure had a way with words...so wise, too."

A tear rolled down Carter's cheek, but he wiped it away. This was no time for crying, he told himself. He was doing this for Hogan. And if Hogan had been there himself, he would have told the young man the same thing. He was fighting for the American officer, and he would fight for Hogan even if it meant losing his life to do so. He had to keep fighting...for Hogan.

LeBeau looked at Carter with empathy, when he heard a car pulling up front.

"What was that?" He asked urgently.

Both men peaked their heads from behind the wall and gulped.

"Oh no," LeBeau said, under his breath.

It was Hogan and Hochstetter. They were getting out of the car, saluting the driver 'goodnight', and making their way into Headquarters.

Carter, trying his best to keep his anxiety in tact, he made three black stork cries.

Newkirk, looking through several documents, heard the cries and froze. He snapped out of it and quickly gathered the ones he was looking for and organized the rest back in the piles he had found them in. He stuffed the documents into the inside of his jacket, made his way to the window and looked down.

"Andrew! Louis!" He cried softly. "Get back into position, so I can close the window!"

Carter and LeBeau did their best to get back on top of one another and be a ladder for Newkirk.

The Englishman climbed over the window sill and gently stepped on top of LeBeau's back. He turned around swiftly and closed the window and locked it. Satisfied that he had left everything the way it was, Newkirk stepped down off of LeBeau and Carter and made his way to the ground.

* * *

Macher heard the window close in the office and wondered if Newkirk had gotten time to scavenge around the office. He did not have long to think, when he saw Hogan making his way towards his office.

The lieutenant stood at attention and saluted his commanding officer strongly.

Hogan smiled and returned the salute.

"Lieutenant," Hogan said. "What are you doing here at this hour?"

"I had to speak with you, _Herr Colonel_." Macher answered.

The colonel gestured to his office, unlocked the door, and the two officers stepped inside. Hogan flicked the lights on, took off his jacket and hat, then made his way to his desk chair.

"What can I help you with, Lieutenant?" He asked, getting comfy.

"I wanted to ask you a question. It's fairly important."

"Which is?"

"I wanted to know if you had been told about the…" Macher looked around to make sure Hochstetter or Fritz was not around. Satisfied, he turned back to Hogan and spoke quietly. "Tape recordings."

Hogan raised an eyebrow with growing suspicion.

"What tape recordings?" He asked.

"During your time as a prisoner, _Herr Colonel_...Major Hochstetter tampered with several recordings of your friends back at Stalag 13 and used it to his advantage to try and make you talk, Sir...I don't want to upset you or anything, but I thought a man in your position deserved to…"

Hogan began laughing softly.

"Oh, I know about the tape recordings, Lieutenant. And may I say a work of a genius, too," he said, grinning.

"You think so."

"Oh, absolutely. Might consider to use such methods on future prisoners we receive. That should get them to speak, should it not?"

"No, you're right, Sir."

Hogan smiled, then looked at his watch.

"Well, it's getting a little late. Why don't you take the rest of the night off, Lieutenant? Go relax and enjoy yourself."

"Yes, _Herr Colonel. Danke, Herr Colonel_."

" _Heil Hitler_!"

" _Heil Hitler_."

Macher made his way out of Hogan's office and closed the door behind him. He quickly made his descent down the stairs and outside the building. Once he got to the edge of the building, he quickly checked to see if anyone was paying attention to him. Finding no one, he made his way to the right side and met up with Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau.

"You find anything, Corporal Newkirk?" Macher asked softly.

"I got what we need, mate," the Englishman said, certain.

"Good. Now let's get out of here."

"I couldn't agree with you more." LeBeau remarked.

The four of them hurried to their car and silently drove back to camp.

* * *

"Holy cats!" Kinch gasped, while looking at the papers Newkirk and the rest had brought back to camp.

"Every known member of the underground is on that list, mate," Newkirk sadly said.

"And we're at the very top of it all."

"And Tiger? Barbara? Richard, Norman, Otto, and Schnitzer?" Carter asked, in a panic. (1)

"Every last one of them. The Colonel plans on executing each and every one of us." Kinch answered.

"What do we do, _mon ami_?" LeBeau worried.

"Do any of you men know how to do impersonations?" Macher asked.

"Yeah, but if you plan on having us do one in front of the Colonel, it won't work. He'd pick up on who we were within a moment's notice." Kinch replied.

"What if it were done over phone?"

"He'd still pick up on it after awhile."

Macher pursed his lips for a bit before speaking again.

"What if _I_ were the one to do the impersonation?"

Kinch turned to look at him and raised an eyebrow.

"What do you have in mind, Lieutenant?" He asked.

"What if we arranged a meeting with Colonel Hogan? An anonymous member from the underground he's never heard of before calls him and warns him if he is not to attend, he will use blackmail to convince him otherwise. We tell him to meet in a certain part of the forest near here, kidnap him, and bring him back here to continue on...that's as far as I am with that plan at the moment."

Kinch turned to look at Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau, who were all looking at him.

"It's not a bad idea, mate," Newkirk said.

"If we kidnap _mon Colonel_ , we might be able to snap him out of his current mindset and get our Colonel back." LeBeau added.

Carter rubbed his neck, unsure of himself.

"If Louis and Newkirk are down with it, then I guess I am, too." The young sergeant answered.

"Alright...we go with Macher's plan." Kinch turned to the Englishman. "Newkirk, I'm gonna need you to practice the best German accent you've ever done."

"No pressure, huh, mate." Newkirk remarked, slightly agitated.

"I can do it," Macher said.

"You sure the Colonel won't recognize it's you?" Kinch asked, uneasy.

"That Colonel Hogan of yours will never know what hit him," Macher said, with such harshness and so thick of an accent, it was almost impossible to tell it was the lieutenant speaking.

"Whoa...where'd you learn to do _that_?" Carter asked, amazed.

The Gestapo officer chuckled lightly.

"Many years of practice, my friend. We Gestapo officers have to be convincing to fool enemies at any given moment." He answered.

The young sergeant's eyes brightened, and his face seemed to light up then.

"You called me your friend," he said innocently.

Macher smiled back. His eyes spoke for him.

"We'll get your colonel back, Carter." He answered kindly.

"And we'll get you out of Germany as soon as we stop Hochstetter." Kinch replied, grinning.

Macher nodded.

"What do we do first, mate?" Newkirk asked, eager.

Kinch turned back to the Gestapo lieutenant.

"You up for a little prank call, Ben?"

Macher laughed, hearing himself referred as his first name.

"Only if you are...Kinch." He answered.

The staff sergeant gave a grin filled with mischief.

"Gentlemen," he said. "Let's prepare for pranking a colonel."

* * *

(1) Norman, Otto Heidleman, and Barbara Wagner are all characters I have created myself. Norman and Otto first appeared in my story 'Coming Into The Light', and Barbara first appeared in my story 'Hogan's Heroes: Finding the Silver Lining'. Interesting little bit of info: Barbara is the niece of Major Hochstetter!


	18. Chapter 18

**Chapter 18:**

It was almost 11:40 at night. Hogan sat at his desk going through several piles of paperwork needed to be done. He was in the middle of signing one, when his telephone rang. Brought out of his trance, Hogan picked up the phone and answered.

"Colonel Hogan of the Gestapo speaking."

"Colonel, I know who you really are and your history with the underground," Macher said, with a rough German accent. Kinch stood beside the lieutenant listening in. The staff sergeant had to admit to himself; Macher was almost as good as Hogan was fooling others.

Hogan growled.

"Who is this? Speak now, or forever hold your peace!" He ordered.

"You've never met me, but I have seen you several times from a distance. You are not a true Gestapo officer, and I have solid evidence proving that point."

Hogan slammed his hand down hard on his desk, rose from his chair, and his face darkened.

"You dare speak to a Gestapo colonel like this?! Who are you?! And if you refuse to comply, I promise you I will track you down and shoot you _myself_!" He hollered.

"You'll do as _I_ say, or I will make sure the _Fuhrer_ himself receives these photographs of you exchanging important military plans with the enemies dressed as a German colonel!" Macher spat.

This made Hogan laugh.

"That was in my early days. I assure you Major Hochstetter has cleared my name with the beloved _Fuhrer_ ," he said sweetly.

"Yes, but _they_ do not know of your past uh... _hobbies_ we shall call them. Colonel, you will listen to these instructions I am about to give you... _if_ you decide to do otherwise, I will have both you _and_ Major Hochstetter shot for treason!"

"You leave _Herr Major_ out of this! How _dare_ you speak of such acts! Who are you?!"

"Shut up and listen, Colonel!" Macher hissed. "You are to meet me tonight at 2400 hours in the forest between the old abandoned farmhouse four miles north of it and seven miles west of the demolished ball bearing plant. If you are wise, you will choose to come…" The lieutenant paused and gave a sinister chuckle. "Otherwise, I'm sure the _Fuhrer_ would _love_ to see these photos. Ah...such a waste of a man, they will say."

"Who...are you? What do want with me?!" Hogan spat.

" _That_ will be discussed at our meeting...goodbye, Colonel." With that, Macher disconnected the line and hung up.

Steaming hot, Hogan slowly hung up the phone and gripped his desk to stop his urge of throwing something across the room and smashing it against one of the walls. Once he had taken a few deep breaths and calmed down, he made his way to his office window and stared out into the night and began thinking to himself.

* * *

( _Present Day: August 1943, same night_ )

Coming out of his thoughts, the Gestapo colonel looked down at his watch and saw that it was almost 11:45PM. In another 15 minutes, he was expected to be somewhere almost an hour drive from where he was. He had to go, though. If not, it would mean his life and the life of Major Hochstetter's, and the last thing he wanted to happen is be responsible for one of his comrades to be killed because of him not following orders.

Hogan laughed under his breath and stood from his desk. He walked towards his coat rack, buttoned up his jacket and placed on his cap, then exited his office, turned off the lights, and closed the door behind him.

As he made his way downstairs, Hogan started thinking to himself. He felt for his right side and was satisfied to find his loaded pistol tucked away safely. He began grinning with malice.

"You wanna play hard, underground boy, then hard's what you'll get," he said softly.

Set on his destination and goal, Hogan made his way to his staff car and made his way towards the meeting's location.

* * *

Somehow Hogan managed to make it to the meeting area and made it there by 12:15AM. He parked his car alongside the road and walked up the hill into the trees. With his gun clutched in his hand, Hogan scanned his surroundings carefully making sure no one else was 'dropping by' at this meeting.

He reached the clearing and saw that the anonymous caller had yet to show up. It made him wonder whether the man had chickened out or was in the area hiding somewhere. Hogan turned to look in every direction and found no one in sight.

"Alright," he barked quietly. "Show yourself...I _know_ you're with the underground...who are you and who's your contact?"

No response.

"I said 'show yourself', and that's an order!"

Nothing.

Hogan was now growing frustrated and irritable. He let out a deep and heavy breath, then spoke again.

"I'm going to count to five. That's how long you have to show yourself before I track you down and shoot to kill on sight! One... _two_ …"

While the colonel began his count-off, Kinch and Macher silently made their way out from behind the bushes and trees they had been hiding with and snuck up behind Hogan. The Gestapo agent nodded to Kinch, and the staff sergeant brought out a white cloth out of his pocket and had it ready in his hand. Macher had his right hand out and ready to strike at his 'commanding officer'.

"Three... _four_ …" Hogan never got to five. As soon as he had said 'four', Kinch instantly wrapped his right arm around Hogan's back and pressed the cloth over his mouth and nose hard. Macher was on the left with his right hand pressing on his neck in one of his pressure points. The colonel gave muffled cries for help, but within minutes, both the pressure point and chloroform sent him into unconsciousness.

Kinch removed the cloth and sighed sadly.

"Sorry, Colonel...it was for your own good," he said softly.

Macher scooped up the unconscious man in his arms and both of them made their way back to Stalag 13. While walking, Kinch turned to look at Macher, then back to the front of him.

"You think this'll work, Ben?" He asked, unsure of himself.

"It has to, Sergeant. If it doesn't, all five of us are good as dead." The man answered him.

Kinch briefly turned to look at Hogan. The colonel was silent and lifeless. His skin looked almost paper like in the moon's lighting. The sergeant was also concerned about his weight loss. Hogan looked like nothing more than skin and bones. He assumed he must have been starved to death while prisoner in Gestapo Headquarters. And the more he thought about what happened that had taken Hogan from them, Kinch cringed with horror and disgust. He could not understand human beings. What made the Germans think that it was okay to treat others in such ways? Why were they so disgusted with other races, religions, nationalities? Were they not human, too? He knew a little regarding Hitler's concentration and death camps, but it was enough to make him despise the man just that much more. The topic had come up one night between both he and Otto while waiting for Hogan and the rest of the guys to return from an assignment. To this day, he had not told Newkirk, Carter, LeBeau, or Hogan about his knowledge on the subject. He wanted to spare them those details. If they found out on their own by other sources, that would be a different situation. For now, though, he would remain silent and prayed his friends would not be informed of Hitler's 'agenda' as he called it.

Macher saw Kinch's expression and grew concerned.

"You alright, Kinchloe?" He asked.

The staff sergeant turned to look at the lieutenant briefly.

"Just thinking is all."

"About what?"

"I just...I can't understand your country's leader's logic...why does he think that what he's doing is alright?"

Macher sighed heavily. He wanted to understand the same thing.

"I couldn't tell you...I can hardly understand it myself. Same reason your camp kommandants running Luft Stalags are brutal and intimidating."

That comment made Kinch laugh.

"You clearly have not met Kommandant Klink, then," he said softly.

Macher chuckled.

"I have heard very interesting things regarding your camp kommandant. Is he as big of a coward as Hochstetter says he is?"

"Worse...he's the biggest chicken that was ever made."

Both men laughed softly, then continued walking. Their good mood did not last, when Kinch frowned again. He was still worried about Hogan. He wanted his commanding officer back. _All_ of them wanted Hogan back. They missed his sense of humor, his boisterous laugh, his advice. Hogan was what _made_ the operation what it was. Without him, their key element was gone. It just did not function the same as it did with him around. He had not told anyone yet, but he had made his hardest decision he would ever have to make leading Newkirk, LeBeau, Carter, and now Macher. If this plan were to fail, and Hogan could not be brought back to them again, they would close down the operation, evacuate every prisoner and themselves out of Germany, and demolish the tunnels and camp. He hoped it would not come to that... _none_ of them wanted that to happen. There was Schultz, Langenscheidt, and Klink to consider, too. They may have been Germans, but they were not Nazis and did not deserve to die. However, they could not be saved. Klink would turn them in if he ever found out about what they did. He would consider saving Schultz and Langenscheidt, however, knowing they had kept their mouths shut several times when they knew Hogan and his men were up to mischief. But Klink would die. No alternative around it. And it killed Kinch knowing that fact.

Macher noticed the man's discomfort and gave an encouraging smile.

"We will get him back, Kinch," he said softly.

The radioman smiled small and nodded.

"Let's get back to camp, Lieutenant. We've got a colonel to save."

Both men picked up their pace in walking and continued their trek back to Stalag 13.


	19. Chapter 19

**Chapter 19:**

Hogan was beginning to come back into consciousness. His head and eyelids felt heavy, and he could hear voices whispering to one another, but he could not make out the words nor their owners. He tried opening his eyes, but they would not do as told. His head flopped to the side every so often, hoping its efforts would help him wake up. When that did not work, he moaned.

"Hochstetter." He mumbled, just barely audible. " _Herr Major_...Fritz…"

Newkirk had tied Hogan tight to a chair in the holding cell of their network of tunnels. His hands were handcuffed behind his back, wrapped around his torso with tied rope, and his legs were tied to the legs of the chair. He had used a distinct style of knot Carter had taught him once to tie the ropes to the chair. A style so impenetrable, that if Hogan even _attempted_ to get loose, the knots would get tighter around him and make escaping that much more difficult for him.

Kinch, Macher, Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau all surrounded the man in the chair and waited for him to come to.

A bit anxious, Carter leaned towards Kinch to speak with him quietly.

"You think he'll wake up soon?"

"Pretty quick...just give him a minute," he said softly.

The young sergeant nodded and went back to waiting silently.

LeBeau and Newkirk had their eyes fixed on Hogan, both crossing their arms with determined and humorless expressions to their faces. They were ready for action the moment Hogan woke up and came around.

After what felt like hours to all of them, the colonel's eyes fluttered open and lifted his head up slowly. He was in a dark area, and there were five figures standing around him, but he could not tell who they were. All of them were wearing different colored outfits, so immediately he assumed they were not fellow Gestapo, though the one man he questioned about. He had a black uniform on and was wearing some type of hat that looked like an officer's hat, but he was still uncertain.

The other four before him, one was wearing a soft green uniform, had dark skin and hair, and seemed to be wearing a lime green hat of some sort. The one to his right looked like he was wearing a brownish/yellow type uniform. He looked like to be wearing gloves, had light colored hair and skin, and was wearing some type of hat as well. The next man to the left of the first one had a blue uniform on. The man had light skin and dark hair. What color the hair was could not be distinguished quite yet. And lastly, the next man was short and was wearing something red and brown pants. He too, had dark hair and light skin, but again it was hard to distinguish the hair color.

Hogan looked up at them like he was drunk and trying to figure out which way was up and down. His eyes kept falling, but fought to keep them open. He wanted to know who these men were and what they wanted from him. And where was Hochstetter and Fritz, he wondered. They should be around here somewhere, should they not?

"Who are you?" He asked, groggy. "What do you want?"

"Well, well, well," Kinch said, smiling a bit. "Welcome back, Sir."

The effects of the drug seemed to immediately wipe away from Hogan, for he snapped his head up and snarled at all four of his late men.

" _YOU four_! I should have known better! How did you fool me so well?!"

"It was _I_ who fooled you, Colonel Hogan," Macher said, firm. He had a gun pointed at him as ordered by Kinch to do so to make him behave.

Hogan turned his head, and his eyes gaped at the sight before him.

"Macher! _You're_ working for the enemy?!" He hissed.

"It's _you_ who is working for the enemy, Colonel." LeBeau answered, smug.

"Where's Major Hochstetter? I demand to see him! He'll have you all court martialed and shot!" Hogan barked.

Newkirk merely laughed.

"Oh, are you out of the loop, Sir," he said, with mischief.

"What did you do to them?! If you laid a hand on either _one_ of them, I'll kill you all!" The colonel warned.

"They're not here, Colonel...in fact, they don't even know you're missing. For all they know, you're out on official business." Kinch answered, calm.

"You filthy, dirty bastards!" Hogan hissed.

"Colonel, don't you even know who we are?" Carter asked, frightened. The young sergeant thought he would never see the day where he was terrified of Hogan. Sure, the colonel was a bit frightening when he got angry, but this was a whole new type of fear the young man was experiencing. It was a 'fight or flight' fear.

"Don't listen to him, _mon ami_. That is not _our_ Colonel Hogan talking!" LeBeau replied.

"Just an ill, sick demon inside his body." Newkirk sneered.

"Is this the way you treat the superior race?! The Third Reich will destroy _all_ of you!" Hogan answered.

"Is this the way you treat your men, Colonel? These men who risked their _lives_ for you. These men are willing to _die_ for you, and you don't even realize what you have lost!" Macher spat, disgusted. Witnessing what was being exchanged between Hogan and his men, it reminded him of times with Hochstetter, where the short major did nothing but scream at him and tell him how worthless he was. It made the lieutenant hate the man that much stronger. Whether he lived or died after this, he would _never_ return to Hochstetter's command. He would murder one of his own countrymen before doing so.

"You stay out of this, traitor! You have no say in that matter! These men left me to _die_ in Hochstetter's care, and you're _defending_ them! They're murderers to their own men!"

Kinch turned to Newkirk and gestured with his head towards their old commanding officer.

"Gag him, Newkirk," he said softly.

The Englishman nodded and made his way to Hogan with a clean washcloth in his hands. Once he got to the colonel, he leaned forward and shoved the wad into his mouth and muffling his shouting and screaming.

"I'm sorry, Gov'nor...it's for your own good, though," he said sincerely.

Hogan stared at Newkirk with daggers in his eyes, his skin full blown red, and screaming and shouting into the cloth stuck in his mouth. He tried spitting it out, but it was no use. He was trapped and there was no way of letting Hochstetter nor Fritz know where he was or who he was with. He vowed when he got out of here, he would turn Macher in, and watch him and everyone involved in the operation die. The five of them there presently, however, _he_ would take the pleasure in killing them slowly and painfully. Until then, he continued to scream and shout, praying that someone might hear him, though he knew it was useless.

"Ben, keep watch on him. I'll send Baker down in a few hours to take your spot," Kinch said, to the lieutenant.

"Yes, Kinch," he said, affirmative.

The staff sergeant gestured for Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau to go with him.

"Come on...I think Colonel Hogan needs some time to think," he said, eyeing his past commanding officer.

Hogan stared right at him fiercely and continued screaming.

The four men left and made their way into the barracks. Kinch closed the entrance, and the four of them sat down at the table to discuss what would happen next in their plan. He also wanted to tell them what he had decided if the plan were to fail. It would be hard to tell them, and it would be hard to hear, but it was for the best of them. _Their_ Colonel Hogan would have wanted them to do the same thing had he'd been there to tell him himself and give the order. It was now Kinch's turn to give Hogan's final orders for them to follow.

"Well," Newkirk said, slightly irritated. " _Now_ what?"

Kinch licked his lips before speaking.

"Tomorrow morning after roll call, we begin our 'treatments' I guess you could call it. We'll need every assignment, memory, and hardship we can remember with the Colonel if we even stand a _chance_ at getting him back."

"And if we fail?" LeBeau asked, worried.

The leading sergeant sighed heavily.

"That's what I actually wanted to discuss tonight," he said softly.

"I don't like the sound of that voice, Kinch," LeBeau said, weary.

"What is it, mate?" Newkirk asked.

Kinch went silent for a brief moment. He had to figure out how to say his thoughts gently. What his final orders would be were not only heartbreaking, but unimaginable.

"I have reached a decision in what the rest of this plan will look like." He began. "If all efforts fail to save the Colonel, and he has been completely brainwashed from Hochstetter's torment...then we're shutting down operations, evacuating camp with the rest of the men, and blowing this place up in flames."

"Boy," Carter said softly. "I sure wished it would never come to this...I didn't think we ever _would_ come to this."

"There's more, Carter, my boy," Kinch said sadly.

"I don't like where this is going." Newkirk commented.

"And you're not gonna like what I'm about to say...if it _does_ come to that...I'm afraid we're going to have to kill the Colonel."

"KILL THE COLONEL!" All three of them exclaimed.

"No...NO! No, I won't let you!" Carter cried.

"Colonel Hogan doesn't _deserve_ this!" LeBeau spat.

"You bloody balmy?! That's committing a fragging! That's worse then treason!" Newkirk chimed in.

"This isn't _our_ Colonel Hogan, guys. This is just some evil spirit living inside his body...look, I hate the idea myself as much as you all do, but if we don't, the Colonel serves a huge threat to _all_ of us. Thousands of innocent lives will die if we don't do so...I don't want to have to call that order, but I will if all else fails," Kinch said. His voice sounded tired and drained.

"I don't _want_ Colonel Hogan to die, Kinch. We're a family; families stick together." Carter croaked.

The radioman looked at the young man with empathy.

"That's not our Colonel Hogan down there, Andrew...not the one we knew and respected...if nothing we do helps to bring him back to us...then it's too late...Hochstetter will have won."

Newkirk's face became a dark shade of pink and shook his head. A person could almost feel the steam emanating off his body.

"Why if I ever get me hands on that bastard, he'll have hell to pay." He hissed.

" _Oui_! I'll make the filthy bosche suffer just as much as they made _mon Colonel_ did!" LeBeau sneered.

"We're not killing Hochstetter...no matter how much we want to. Colonel Hogan wasn't like that, and he wouldn't want us to dishonor him like that if he were here now," Kinch said softly.

"That Kraut deserves to _die_ , Kinch! Now, I would agree with you in other occasion, but Hochstetter pays this time... _big_ time!" Newkirk remarked, angry.

"I say we kill this Fritz guy, too...he sounds just as bad as Hochstetter is." LeBeau grumbled, crossing his arms.

"And once we're all safe in London, we'll make sure Hochstetter and Fritz get a taste of their own medicine...but the Colonel would want us out of Germany before that happened. We always came first in his mind." The sergeant answered.

"Colonel Hogan put _everyone_ first. Not once was it about him...he cared about others so much, he completely ignored his own needs even when injured or sick," Carter said sadly.

"The Gov'nor was a good man with a big heart...I'll _never_ be as kind or forgiving as he was…" Newkirk lightly pounded his fist against the table. "I don't make any promises if I see that bloody bastard in person I won't try anything, mate."

"I'm with Pierre. I will listen to you, but I make no promises if I see him in person," LeBeau said, firm.

"That's all I ask for...I'll worry about seeing him in person when we cross that bridge." Kinch answered.

Tears started streaming down Carter's face, but he tried wiping them away. He hated looking like a big baby in front of everyone, but it was hard when it came to Hogan.

Newkirk saw his friend's discomfort and looked at him with sympathy.

"Come here, mate," he said kindly, while getting to his feet.

Carter made his way to his best friend, and Newkirk wrapped his arm around him like Hogan had always done.

"We're gonna get the Gov'nor back. Don't you worry, Andrew."

"I don't wanna lose Colonel Hogan...I want him to come back to us. He's gotta be in there somewhere still, I _know_ he is." Carter claimed.

"We're gonna do everything we can to get Colonel Hogan back, but it's not going to be easy. We need to be ready for every alternative, possibility, and curve ball thrown at us. If we do that, our chances at bringing our colonel back are higher." Kinch answered.

"When do we start?"

"Tomorrow morning. I don't think any of us are in the mindset to start right now."

"What about _Monsieur Ben_?" LeBeau asked, curious.

"He's got it down there. He was a Gestapo officer after all. Keeping people prisoner is their best talent," Kinch said, with a grin.

That got a small chuckle out of all of them.

"Come on, guys. Let's get headed to bed. The sooner we go to sleep, the sooner we'll be to helping Colonel Hogan come back to us." The staff sergeant softly spoke.

All four of them got into their pajamas, jumped into their bunks, and were soon lost in their dreams, all four of them having the same one: Hogan coming back to them.


	20. Chapter 20

**Chapter 20:**

"Roll call! Everybody outside for roll call! _Raus, raus, raus_!" Schultz bellowed, in barracks two the following morning.

All the men groaned in response, but followed orders and trudged their way out into the early morning summer breeze. It was cold, but not frostbite cold. With the humidity and heat in the air, the breeze was welcoming to all the men.

LeBeau bent towards the right to talk to Kinch, who was standing in Hogan's spot, softly.

"You think Colonel Hogan slept at all last night?"

"Hard to say." Kinch murmured. "For all we know, he could have been screaming all night long into the washcloth. Might not even have a voice anymore from all of the screaming."

"I didn't hear anything, so Ben must have been able to keep him quiet somehow," Newkirk said, in a hushed tone.

"I hate knowing that we're keeping Colonel Hogan as prisoner...it shouldn't have been him that went through what he did. It should have been _me_!" LeBeau remarked, depressed.

"If anyone, it should have been _me_." Newkirk remarked. "Lord knows after everything I put the Gov'nor through, it would have been made even that way."

"We may feel that way, but Colonel Hogan would have been heartbroken had it been one of us instead. He'd be worried sick out of his mind trying to find a way to bring us back to reality." Kinch answered.

"There's that big heart of his again. You know, I'm beginning to think that heart of his is what caused _most_ of his troubles."

"I just keep praying that I will wake up, and this whole nightmare will be over," LeBeau said, under his breath.

Kinch was about to speak, when the sound of a door slamming was heard, and a loud voice bellowed into the morning air.

"Schultz! Repooooooooorrrrt!" Klink cried.

When he reached his sergeant of the guard, Schultz turned to salute the kommandant. Klink did the same in return.

" _Herr Kommandant_ , all prisoners present and accounted for." The big guard reported.

"Excellent, Schultz. You may dismiss the prisoners."

" _Jawohl, Herr Kommandant_!"

Klink groaned and marched back to his office.

After doing as ordered, Schultz made his way to his morning duties, the prisoners dispersed to their morning routines, and Hogan's men made their way back inside the barracks and down into the tunnels to check on Hogan. When they got to the holding area, they found Macher sitting on a bench with his gun steady and pointed at the sleeping form of what was once their commanding officer. Hogan's head was cocked to the left and the gag had remained in his mouth.

"How's he doing, Ben?" Kinch asked, turning to the lieutenant.

"Alright now. He finally fell asleep after two hours of screaming and shouting into the gag. Realizing it was useless, he resigned for the night after giving me another death glare."

"You get anything out of him?" Newkirk asked, curious.

"Nothing...Hochstetter did a fine job this time with his torturing methods. That man's more broken than a shattered vase." Macher answered, his eyes never leaving Hogan.

"When I get my hands on him…" LeBeau started pounding his fist into the palm of his left hand, when Kinch placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

"Settle down, LeBeau." He ordered.

The little Frenchman eased and turned his head back to the sleeping colonel.

Hogan slowly fluttered his eyes open and once his sight settled in, he remembered where he was and glared at the five men before him.

Kinch gave an impish smile and crossed his arms.

"Well...good morning, Colonel. Did you sleep well?"

Hogan growled, his eyes a blaze. He tried saying something, but it sounded like nothing but a bunch of noises.

"What did you say, Colonel?" Carter asked, curious.

The colonel snapped his eyes towards the young sergeant and started screaming something louder. His face was now changing to a light shade of red, and his eyes darkened.

"You stop screaming and use an inside voice, I'll order Newkirk to remove the gag," Kinch said.

Hogan let out a heavy breath of air and grew silent, while still gawking at all of them.

Once he was positive he would stop the yelling, Kinch turned his head to Newkirk and gestured towards Hogan with his head.

"Ungag him," he said softly.

"Right, mate," Newkirk said.

The British man made his way over to the colonel and removed the washcloth from his mouth, then gently placed it beside the chair Hogan was tied up in currently.

"It's about time you removed that damn thing. Who do you men think you are?!" Hogan hissed.

"We're trying to _help_ you, Colonel...this isn't you, Sir." LeBeau replied meekly.

"You ain't thinking straight, Gov'nor. You were tortured to this." Newkirk added.

"My cognitive skills are _fine_ , thank you very much!" Hogan snarled. "You dare speak to a Gestapo colonel this way?!"

"You're not a Gestapo colonel! You're Colonel Robert Hogan of the United States Army Air Force. Don't you remember anything at all?" Carter asked helplessly.

" _I_ am a Gestapo officer, Hogan. _You_ are not. I do not want you left with a legacy like mine," Macher said, getting to his feet. He was genuinely sincere while speaking. He regretted every moment being a part of the Gestapo force and being under Hochstetter's command. He could not save his legacy now, but he would save Hogan's if it meant his life doing so. "You want your children to remember you as a mass murderer of innocent lives or a hero of the war?"

"Who said I wanted children? They're loud, _annoying_ , _a nuisance_!"

"Colonel, you love _les enfants_. You said yourself that you wanted at least four after the war." LeBeau replied, astounded.

"People's minds change, French swine!"

"Oh, Colonel...Hochstetter and Fritz broke you bad." Kinch answered, stunned.

"You leave _Herr Major_ and Hans out of this!" Hogan snapped.

" _Why_? They're the ones that did this to you!" LeBeau hissed.

"You really gonna defend the men who want nothing more than to destroy everything you've done and accomplished? To destroy this entire operation you spent most of your military _career_ trying to establish?" Newkirk asked, appalled.

" _This_ is my military career! And once Major Hochstetter finds out where I am, all of you will be shot, and _I_ will personally do the honors myself!" The colonel remarked, harsh.

Kinch let out a huge breath of air, then turned to all of them but Carter.

"Can I speak with you guys out here?" He asked softly.

"What about _me_?" The young sergeant asked, having an instantaneous feeling of being left out.

Kinch took the gun from the Gestapo lieutenant's hand and placed it in his.

"Watch Colonel Hogan. Make sure he keeps quiet. If he tries anything, your orders are to shoot. Understand?"

"Kinch...I _can't_...not Colonel Hogan." Carter quivered.

"I'm not _asking_ , Andrew. I'm _telling_ you. If he tries anything, you are ordered to fire that gun, understand?" The staff sergeant's voice was unhypocritical.

Carter swallowed a large knot and nodded sadly.

"Yes, Kinch," he said softly.

Newkirk patted his best friend's shoulder, then all but Carter and Hogan left the area and walked down quite a ways away from the room. Once they made their way into Newkirk's sewing room, all of them stopped and turned towards one another.

"What do you have in mind, mate?" The Englishman asked.

"Hypnosis might work." Macher suggested, crossing his arms.

"Where are we going to find a hypnotist in Germany?" LeBeau questioned arrogantly.

"Bloody Krauts probably kill them, _too_." Newkirk added, sharp.

"I am _not_ a Kraut, and I have _never_ killed another human being even _as_ a Gestapo lieutenant!" Macher snapped.

"We don't mean you, _mon ami_ ; we mean the others." LeBeau replied friendly.

"You ain't no where _near_ a Kraut, mate," Newkirk said, sincere.

The lieutenant relaxed and nodded, understanding.

There was a brief moment of silence before LeBeau spoke.

"You were saying about hypnosis?"

" _Are_ there even hypnotists in Germany?" The Englishman asked, curious.

"Yes...but not the ones we need. German hypnotists are known to use their profession to make the enemy follow their orders and even convince them that they are working for the wrong side," Kinch said.

"Well, I guess _that's_ out of the question." LeBeau grumbled.

"What about reminding him of everything he's done and everything we've been through? It might re-jog his memory and help him remember who he was." Newkirk proposed.

"It might work, but we would have to execute it well to pull it off." Kinch answered, rubbing his chin.

"We're gonna need to pull out every memorable and significant event we've got at 'im."

"And if it doesn't work?" LeBeau asked.

"We'll have to think of something else, then. Maybe some reverse psychology...we'll cross that bridge when we get there," the radioman said.

Newkirk nodded.

"Alright, mate...you ready?"

" _Oui_ ," said LeBeau.

" _Jawohl_ ," Macher said.

"Let's do this," Kinch said.

The four of them made their way back into the holding area, and Carter stood to his feet when seeing them. He put the gun down on the bench and made his way towards them.

"You guys got an idea?" He asked, anxious.

Newkirk leaned towards the young man and whispered into his ear.

Carter nodded.

"Good thinking," was his response.

Macher made his way towards the pistol on the bench, picked it up, then pointed it again at Hogan. The colonel had become very quiet and in thought.

Kinch turned his head to Hogan and looked at him.

"What 'cha thinking about, Colonel?" He asked friendly.

Hogan snapped his angry eyes at the man.

"Ways to kill you all when I get out of this damn chair!" He snarled.

"There's other things you could do after being set free." LeBeau remarked simply.

"Like what?" Hogan retorted.

"Reading...writing...drawing...going for a hike's always nice." Carter began making a list. "Oh, there's this really fun game we play back home that you would like! You see, so a group of people make a…" He stopped, when he saw Hogan's face darken and let out a hot breath like a bull about to charge. Carter hung his head and made himself appear small. "...nevermind."

The colonel looked at him for a little longer, then made his eyes back to all of them.

"I want to speak with Major Hochstetter at once! That's an order!" He barked.

"And tell him what? That you're being kept prisoner underneath this barracks with an entrance or existence he doesn't have proof nor knowledge of?" Kinch asked, sly.

"Why you little son of a…" Hogan was cut off.

"Colonel, _remember_ us! We're your team! Your friends!" Carter begged.

"I'd _never_ be friends with the enemy! I'd rather die than abandon my side for yours!"

"Your surprise birthday party, the going away party we wanted to have when London gave you orders to return home, us sitting by your bedside when you were sick with pneumonia, heart failure due to explosive injuries, when you were in a coma from blood loss after being shot, when Newkirk was captured with the fake underground agent! You've _gotta_ remember it, Colonel!" LeBeau pleaded. (1)

"Listen to them, Colonel. Don't let what happened to you that night control you! Remember, Hogan!" Macher urged him.

"I'm a loyal Gestapo colonel! Now let me go!" Hogan snapped.

"Gov'nor, snap out of it!" Newkirk exclaimed. He ran towards his commanding officer, knelt on the ground, and shook him by the shoulders. "Snap out of it, Sir! Don't let Hochstetter win! You're stronger than he is, Gov'nor!"

Carter fought back tears in his eyes, but somehow managed to speak.

"If you don't come back, Sir, then you're not our colonel anymore. Our Colonel Hogan was kind and caring, courageous, encouraging, and brave. He could get through anything no matter thick or thin." He choked.

"Gov'nor...I know you're in there somewhere. That you're screaming and trying to find a way back to us...fight, Colonel! Fight it, Sir! Come back to us, Gov'nor!" Newkirk cried. Tears were streaming down his cheeks. In usual circumstances, the Englishman hid his emotions back and acted tough and thick skinned. This, however, he knew that if this failed, they would either need a miracle to occur or it was kill Hogan, evacuate camp, and destroy everything they had worked for and possibly their chances at winning the ongoing battle between the Allies and Nazi Germany and Imperial Japan.

Hogan looked back at Newkirk with haunted eyes. It was as if his spirit had left his body and gone somewhere else. He was unresponsive and disconnected.

"Colonel?" Carter quivered.

No answer.

"Colonel?" The young sergeant croaked.

Nothing.

"What's wrong with him?!" LeBeau exclaimed.

Newkirk shook his head while trembling with fear.

"...I don't know…" He answered.

"Colonel." Kinch called out.

No response.

"Colonel!" He called again.

Still no answer.

"Colonel Hogan, can you hear us?" Macher asked, worried.

Hogan remained zombie like while his thoughts were racing a thousand miles a minute, remembering everything that had happened within the last year here in Stalag 13.

* * *

(1) The heart failure to explosive injuries happened in my story 'Hogan's Heroes: A Memory Lost In Darkness'. The coma from blood loss after being shot is an injury Hogan sustained in my story 'Hogan's Heroes: Only We Can Do That'. The surprise going away party the boys wanted to plan for Hogan is from the episode 'Hogan, Go Home', season three. And Newkirk and the fake underground agent being kidnapped by the Gestapo is from the episode 'How To Catch A Papa Bear', season four.


	21. Chapter 21

**Chapter 21:**

( _January 1943: Radio room regarding a ball bearing plant sabotage mission_.)

Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau, all dressed in their blacks, walked towards Hogan and Kinch at the radio table. Carter had his head hung sadly, Newkirk dropped the sack filled with inactive grenades, and LeBeau was moaning behind him.

"Forget it! It is _très impossible_!" The little Frenchman spoke, surrendering.

"Everything alright?" Hogan asked, concerned, making his way towards the three of them.

"Forget it, Gov'nor. There's _hundreds_ of Gestapo Krauts guarding that place. It's a bloody suicide mission." Newkirk remarked, hopeless.

"Gee...never thought we would fail London before," Carter said sadly.

"You guys can't give up. What makes this any different from the other difficult missions we've had before?" Hogan asked, wrapping his arms around himself.

"Sir, we'll be killed if we even go _near_ the bloody building!" Newkirk sighed and shook his head ashamed. "There's no point, Sir...go ahead and radio London...tell them we surrender and can't do it."

Hogan frowned at them.

"Come on, guys. We can't give up now!" He spoke, still sounding hopeful.

"We can't do it, Colonel. It's too dangerous." LeBeau replied.

Kinch sighed and shook his head.

"Boy, are we in a tight squeeze," he said.

Hogan turned to look at Kinch quickly, then back to the three men before him.

"We can do it, guys...we just need another plan to do so." He answered.

" _How_?" Carter asked.

"It's mere impossible, Gov'nor." Newkirk added, with pessimism.

The American officer smiled at them.

" _Nothing's_ impossible. My men are capable of doing anything they want to do."

"You have more optimism then we do, Sir," Carter said softly.

"We just need to think of another way to execute it. Once we do that, that ball bearing plant will be as if it had never existed." Hogan answered, confident.

"You think so, Colonel?" LeBeau asked, starting to brighten.

"I _know_ so. Certainly with _my_ men around."

They all smiled small.

"Thanks, Gov'nor...we needed that," Newkirk said, soft.

Hogan simply smiled and waved them over to join him and Kinch at the radio table. Once all four of his men were surrounding him, Hogan unrolled the map of the plant and started pointing to some point on it.

"So it goes down like this." He began.

* * *

( _March 2, 1943: A night with tremendous snowfall_ )

Hogan sat at his desk doing paperwork for an ordered work detail, when he heard a knock come on his door. He looked up briefly over at the door, then back down at his work.

"Come in," he said, nonchalant.

The door slowly opened, and a very saddened Carter made his way in. His cheeks were a bit wet, and his eyes looked as if he had been crying.

Making eyes to his visitor, Hogan instantly pushed his work aside, stood to his feet, and made his way over to his youngest team member.

"Carter, what's wrong?" He asked, worried.

"Just got a letter from home, Sir." The young sergeant answered meekly.

"I take it you didn't get good news."

"My cat had to be put down, Colonel...he seemed fine when I left...I'm never gonna see him again now."

"Oh, Carter, I'm sorry." Hogan put a gentle hand on the man's shoulder.

"Gary was my best pal, Sir. We always sat on the couch and listened to the radio on stormy nights next to the fireplace...now he's gone."

"They say what was wrong with him?"

"Old age. My sister said he wasn't acting the same anymore. He was constantly crying or sleeping."

The colonel wrapped an arm around Carter's shoulder and patted him softly.

"I'm sorry, Carter. He's in good hands now, though. I can assure you that...to be honest, I know the exact feeling of losing a pet."

"You do, Colonel?"

"I had a cat back in London when I was stationed there." Hogan smiled sadly remembering her. "My soft white and gray little gal, Mitsy."

Carter gave a small smile back.

"She sounds like she was your best friend." He replied back.

"She sure was. Listen to the radio snuggled against my leg, sat next to me while I read, lay in my lap, sat on top of my belly when I was sick...even had a leash I put on her and take her outside on my patio once and awhile."

Carter smiled a bit more, then frowned remembering Hogan had lost her.

"What happened to Mitsy?" He asked quietly.

The colonel let out a sad sigh and frowned.

"She started acting weird one day. Would fall down to the side while walking sometimes, crying out in pain, gradually stopped eating...she had a brain tumor that was cancerous. We gave her some medicine to help, but it wasn't long before I realized she wasn't going to get any better...I put her down that year in the middle of June."

"I'm sorry, Colonel...you must have been devastated."

"I was pretty sad for a while. I cried a little and then realized I was glad she wasn't hurting anymore. She's up there playing with a ball of yarn and chasing birds around no doubt." Hogan smiled again. "She had a good life, and I'm sure Gary had one, too. Neither of them are suffering anymore, Carter. They're happy and healthy again."

"Maybe Gary knows Mitsy."

"Just as long as he doesn't hurt my little girl, I'm alright."

Carter smirked softly, then looked up at Hogan grateful.

"Thanks, Colonel...you always know what to say to make us feel better."

The American officer smiled back sincerely.

"No problem. S'what I'm here for." He answered.

Carter nodded, then Hogan patted his back.

"Come on. Why don't we go and make sure LeBeau and Newkirk don't kill each other while playing gin."

"Yes, Sir."

The young sergeant, standing side by side with his colonel, walked out of the room and closed the door behind them.

* * *

( _July 13, 1943: Stalag 13_ )

It was the morning of Hogan's 31st birthday. Kinch, Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau were already up before roll call dressed and wide awake. They silently opened Hogan's door and found their commanding officer still peacefully sleeping on the bottom bunk. He was wearing white pajamas with a blue trim around the collar and line to button up the shirt.

All four of them tipped toed over towards his bedside and surrounded him. Newkirk pulled out a harmonica and softly blew into it to make a near silent 'A' note. They all counted to four silently, then began singing in D major.

" _Happy birthday to you, happy birthday to you. Happy birthday, dear Colonel...Happy birthday to you_!"

Hogan woke up halfway through at first surprised, then gave a tired smile.

"Thank you, guys," he said sleepy.

"How do yah feel, Sir?" Newkirk asked, grinning.

Hogan swallowed before answering.

"At the moment, half asleep."

"Wait till you see the cake Louis made you. Boy, does it look good!" Carter cheered softly.

"Is it my favorite, LeBeau?"

" _Oui, Colonel_. Chocolate cake with smooth chocolate frosting. It will melt in your mouth," the little Frenchman said, proud.

Hogan licked his lips and moaned.

"Making me hungry."

"If you get up, you can get some." Newkirk prodded.

"A big, nice slice of chocolate cake on your birthday." Kinch added, grinning.

"Gonna have to now that you brought chocolate cake into the conversation." Hogan answered, smiling faintly.

"You sleep as long as you like, Colonel. We will explain everything to Schultzie," LeBeau said, sincere.

"It's _Klink_ I'm more concerned over."

"We got 'em, Sir. Don't worry," Newkirk said, with a grin.

Hogan smirked, then closed his eyes and fell back to sleep. He would have a day with sleeping in, birthday cake, no work, and spending it with his life long friends.

* * *

The memories continued to flow through Hogan's mind. Him getting sick with viral pneumonia, and his men risking their lives to get him penicillin to raise his chances at surviving and standing by him at his bedside. When an Italian spy was out to kill him. (1) The wrath of Lieutenant Walters and being shot causing him a near fatal blood clot and going into a coma. (2) His heart scare and lifesaving operation thanks to the miracle of Dr. Prudhomme and Newkirk's mental trauma. (3) Then it went back even more. His arrival to Stalag 13 and meeting Newkirk, Kinch, and LeBeau after being shot down, several operations to save his life, and waiting in a holding cell in Gestapo Headquarters. Meeting Carter and taking the young man under his wing, growing proud of him for his steps of becoming more confident with himself and socializing. (4) His best friend in the world from the 504th and second in command, Major Rick Schuerman. (5) His commanding officer, who he had basically a father-son relationship with, General Alfred Berkman, who was stationed in London and in charge of the operation's running. His girlfriend, Maggie, back in Cleveland he wanted to marry and raise a family with after the war...his loving mother, father, and younger brother. (6) And his many friends in the underground: Otto, Gilbert, Norman, Tiger, Barbara, Richard, baby Gracie he had saved from the hands of the Gestapo and safely in London with her new mom and dad taking care of her... _Lieutenant Macher_ , out of all people, who was tired of acting as the villain and genuinely wanted to help stop Hitler's reign. (7)

There was Schultz, Klink, and Langenscheidt, too! Both Schultz and Langenscheidt were kind and caring; _anything_ but Nazis. They had a sense of the trouble around camp lots of the time, but ignored it and went on with their duties while secretly wanting Hitler to be defeated. They were friendly with Hogan and his men, and always there to talk to if anyone needed anything. And then there was Klink. He was egotistical, yes. He was fairly gullible, true. He was a moron a numerous amounts of time, but he was not an enemy. In fact, Hogan believed he was the exact opposite. Whether he expressed it somehow or not, the American colonel believed that Klink was on their side and wanting the same thing as they wanted. Both he and his German counterpart had endured lots of events and stresses since meeting one another. He sensed Klink thought of him as his friend...his _only_ friend, and in a way, Hogan thought Klink was his friend, too. At the end of the day, the camp kommandant was not all that unbearable. In fact, very lovable in some ways than others.

After all his flashbacks, memories, and remembering everyone he loved and cared for more than his own life, it hit Hogan all at once. He remembered why he was fighting, who he was fighting for, and what he despised to the bottom of his soul. He remembered what Hochstetter had done to him; the torture he had endured, the pain he had been caused, the unthinkable and inhuman act of convincing him he had been responsible for the deaths of all four of his men! It was at that moment that Hogan realized what he was doing, who he was claiming to fight for, and had the most awful and horrific question he would ever think: _what have I done_?!

* * *

(1) From my story 'Hogan's Heroes: A Deathly Plan'.

(2) From my story 'Hogan's Heroes: Only We Can Do That'.

(3) From my story 'Hogan's Heroes: A Memory Lost In Darkness'.

(4) From my story 'Hogan's Heroes: An Allied Revolution Begins'.

(5) Major Richard 'Rick' Schuerman is my own created character. He first appeared in my story 'Hogan's Heroes: Story Untold'.

(6) Maggie is my created character. She is first mentioned in my story 'Hogan's Heroes: Story Untold'.

(7) Baby Gracie is from my story 'Hogan's Heroes: Papa Bear Becomes A Papa'.


	22. Chapter 22

**Chapter 22:**

( _Reality: August 1943-Stalag 13_ )

Hogan sat there in the chair, his face filled with horror and still not completely connected with the real world yet.

"Gov'nor," Newkirk said.

Nothing.

"Gov'nor, can you hear us?!"

Hogan's mouth trembled, but managed to get one word out of his mouth.

"...Carter…" He quivered.

"Colonel?" The young sergeant asked, worried.

"...Carter...Carter…" He again spoke.

The man being called for turned to his friends with a look of uncertainty on his face.

"Go to him, Sergeant. Newkirk, you come here." Macher ordered.

Newkirk got to his feet and returned to his friends, and Carter made his way to Hogan and knelt down in front of him like the English corporal had just done beforehand.

"Colonel...can you hear me?" Carter croaked.

"Carter...he's just a kid...he's just a kid!" Hogan whimpered softly.

Kinch, Newkirk, LeBeau, and Macher all looked at the shivering man before them.

"I'm alright, Colonel...don't worry." The young man answered friendly.

"Kinch...LeBeau...Carter, Newkirk... _Herr Major_ …" Hogan began shaking harder, clenched his eyes shut, and began screaming bloody murder. "LET THEM GO! LET 'EM GO!"

"We're alright, Colonel. We're safe!" LeBeau promised.

"NEWKIRK! KINCH! LET THEM GO!" Hogan howled.

Carter snapped his head to Macher, fear written all over his face.

"Keep talking to him! Get him to come out of it. His mind is on overload." Macher ordered.

The young sergeant nodded and turned back to his commanding officer.

"We're alright, buddy. Don't worry, Colonel. No one's gonna hurt us in here." Carter spoke kindly.

"Klink...Maggie...Hochstetter... _Heil Hitler_!...Make it stop!" Hogan cried, in agony.

"Fight it, Gov'nor! Don't let Hochstetter win! You can beat this, Sir!" Newkirk proclaimed.

"My men...my men!" Hogan wailed.

"Fight for them, Colonel. _Fight_!" Macher urged.

The American officer gave another few cries of fear and pain. There was half of him that wanted to stay with the Gestapo, a life with little to no harm to be caused by other people, and there was the other half who hated them. He wanted to stop them and destroy them for the thousands and thousands of innocent lives that had died under their hand and of Hitler's. He wanted his men. He wanted his family, his friends, a job he was honored to have...he wanted all of it back.

"I want them...I want them back!" Hogan began sobbing.

"We're here, Colonel. You've gotta _come_ back, though," Kinch said, encouraging.

"You have believed in us, we believe in _you_!" LeBeau cheered.

Hogan thrashed his head back and forth, trying to shake something from his mind, and screamed a few more times. It gradually ceased, and once it had, he slowly opened his wet eyes and looked at who was in front of him: Carter, Newkirk, Kinch, LeBeau, and Macher. They were all there with him. His friends were there and were trying to help him. His eyes no longer a haunting black, but a soft and gentle brown again. His urge to cry became stronger the longer he sat there and said nothing. Was it over? Was he back, or had he lost everything he treasured forever? If the latter was true, he was not sure _what_ he would do.

His emotions took toll on him, and Hogan began crying. He was crying right in front of all of them. He was scared, sad, confused, afraid, anxious, ashamed, and guilty. He had threatened to kill his men, he had handed over important military plans to Hochstetter, he yelled at his friends and called them awful things...how could they ever forgive him for such crimes?

"You alright, Colonel?" Carter asked, worried.

Hogan looked up at his young sergeant, swallowed a huge knot in his throat, and tried to find his voice.

"Carter…" He quivered.

"I'm here, boy. Don't worry."

Hogan's eyes turned to Kinch, Newkirk, and LeBeau. The trio were all staring and watching him carefully. None of them had an expression to their face. Hogan looked back down at Carter, then he closed his eyes tight and felt tears stream down his face. What did he even say to them? How did he prove to them just how sorry he felt?

"I...I...Newkirk...Kinch...LeBeau...Carter…" He stopped. "I'm...I'm so…" Hogan could not finish. Sorry did not even _begin_ to describe how he felt. He had betrayed his friends. He had betrayed his family. He had betrayed his country...he had betrayed himself. "I don't think I'll ever forgive myself...I _can't_ forgive myself."

"It's alright, Colonel. It wasn't your fault," Carter said kindly.

Hogan swallowed hard and felt water burning in his eyes again.

"I want to be your colonel again... _please_...I want my men back...I want my team back...I need to _redeem_ myself." He spoke softly.

No one answered him.

The American officer looked at them astonished, like realizing his own friends no longer had any memory of who he was. He sat there quietly until he could not take it any longer.

"What's the matter with all of you?! Don't you know who I am?!"

"Prove it," Kinch said, cold.

"Huh?" Hogan remarked, confused.

"Prove to us you're Colonel Hogan again." LeBeau replied.

The American officer shook his head and looked at them stunned. _How do I prove myself to them_ , he wondered.

"I...I don't know how." He shivered.

Newkirk took two steps forward, crossed his arms, and stared coldly at his old commander.

"Kill Hochstetter," he said, icy.

"What?" Hogan gasped.

"Kill Major Hochstetter if you're the real Gov'nor."

Hogan looked at them harshly.

"I refuse to kill someone in cold blood! You all know that quite well! Did losing me really do this to all of you?! I'll _never_ kill another life unless in self defense, _never_!"

Newkirk stepped back and turned to Kinch.

The staff sergeant gestured for everyone to follow him towards the room entrance. They turned their heads once and awhile to make sure Hogan was not trying to pull anything.

"It sure sounds like the Gov'nor," Newkirk said, hushed.

"Colonel Hogan would never kill anyone without reason, even Hochstetter." Carter added.

"He could be playing us, though." Kinch answered.

"How do we find out if he's our colonel again or not, then?" LeBeau asked, anxious.

Macher stood there quietly until an idea popped into his mind.

"I got it," he said.

"What do you have in mind, mate?" Newkirk asked.

"Your Colonel Hogan would lay down and die for all of you if it meant saving your lives, correct?"

"Yeah, why?" Kinch asked, chary.

"Hogan does not know me that well. He could still be highly suspicious of my loyalties and more than likely assumes I could switch sides again at the drop of the dime. I could take one of you at gunpoint and threatened to kill one of you if your colonel decides to not cooperate with my conditions." The lieutenant answered.

"And if Colonel Hogan is truly back to himself, he'll do anything to get you to release one of us and spare that man." LeBeau replied, it now dawning on him.

" _Exactly_ , Corporal LeBeau," Macher said, grinning.

"It's brilliant, Ben," Kinch said, returning the same smile.

"Which one of you will play victim?"

"Take Andrew. If that's really our Gov'nor again, it'll make him go bloody batty." Newkirk remarked.

"Boy...no pressure, huh?" Carter questioned, uneasy.

"Just follow my lead, Sergeant. All will be well." Macher answered friendly.

The young sergeant let out a breath of air and nodded.

Kinch gestured slightly with his head back into the room. The five men made their way back to their spots and gawked at Hogan.

"Alright, _Sir_...you passed that test." Newkirk commented.

"There's a lot more to our colonel than that, however." Kinch answered, firm.

"What do you want me to do, Kinch? Write my name in blood? It's me, Colonel Hogan! You've gotta believe me, Kinch, _please_!" Hogan pleaded.

"We're sorry, Colonel, but it is necessary for the safety of this operation," LeBeau said softly.

Macher chuckled sinisterly.

"Oh...you men went wrong when you let a Gestapo officer down here, then." He laughed.

"What do you mean by that?" Kinch asked, raising an eyebrow.

Macher took one step, bent over and grabbed Carter by the jacket collar, then stepped backwards, pinned the young man against him, and held a gun in his left temple. Carter gasped and looked at his friends like a deer in headlights.

"NO!" Hogan hollered.

"You bloody traitor!" Newkirk snarled.

"After everything we've done for you!" LeBeau spat.

"You Gestapo Krauts are all the same." Kinch hissed.

The three of Hogan's men went for their pistols, when Macher pressed the gun harder into Carter's head.

"Any of you try going for your firearms, and his brain gets blown to bits, got it?!" The lieutenant barked.

Newkirk, Kinch, and LeBeau held their hands slowly in the air, but kept their eyes fixed on Macher. All three of them looked at him coolly.

"Good," he said. Macher turned his attention back to Hogan. "Now, _Herr Colonel_ , you can drop the act. We've got these men right where we need 'em."

"You filthy bastard, let Carter go!" Hogan hissed.

"Why would you care? You're one of us now."

"I'll _never_ be a Nazi! I'd rather _die_ than serve under your country's leader!"

"Answer one question, and I'll let the sergeant go...who's Papa Bear?"

Hogan's eyes nearly fell out of his head. He was back to the night that started it all. It was either talk and expose his entire operation, or suffer and watch his men die knowing he was responsible for it happening.

"No... _no_...you're not that evil!" He yelped.

"Answer the question, Colonel. Who is Papa Bear?" Macher replied, harsh.

"I'll do whatever you want, just let Carter go! He's just a kid! He's just a kid!"

"Who's Papa Bear?!"

Hogan clenched his jaw shut and merely stared at the lieutenant. He would not speak. There were too many people out there that would die if he squealed.

Macher put his finger on the trigger and was prepared to fire. Carter grimaced, knowing what was coming. He tried to picture something comforting in his last few moments of living. He tried to bring himself to a nice field back home in North Dakota. He and his black Labrador exploring the area and trying to discover new things. Both were hopeful that they would find some more arrowheads to bring home and add to his collection. He almost felt the sun's warmth on his face and was at peace. The slight breeze blowing on his face and birds chirping in the trees nearby.

"Sergeant, your life's ending in three seconds." Macher warned harshly.

"Just do it quickly, Sir," Carter said meekly.

"I'LL TALK! I'LL TALK! _I'M_ PAPA BEAR! I'M THE ONE YOU WANT! LET HIM GO, PLEASE! LET HIM GO!" Hogan screeched. The colonel was full blown crying at that point. Why did he have to suffer through this again?

"Colonel, it _is_ you!" Carter cried, beaming. He ran towards his commanding officer and immediately started untying the knots holding him to the chair.

"Newkirk, help him untie the Colonel," Kinch said, with relief.

"You got it, mate!" The Englishman hurried towards Hogan and eagerly started untying him.

Macher sighed heavily and put his gun back in its holster.

"Good work, Ben. We've got our colonel back because of you." Kinch answered, grateful.

The lieutenant hung his head and blushed.

"Well, I wouldn't say ' _me_ ' per say," he said, bashful.

Newkirk and Carter had gotten the last of the ropes off of Hogan, and the colonel's eyes rolled upwards, sighed, and fell unconscious.

"He passed out!" Carter exclaimed.

"Get him to a bed! Quickly!" Macher ordered.

Kinch picked Hogan up in his arms, and the five of them hurried to the radio room.

* * *

The next time Hogan woke up, he was laying on a soft warm bed and felt nice and comfy. He was wearing a soft white t-shirt, socks, and his brown uniform pants. He was covered up with a warm blanket, his left arm resting on his middle.

Hogan's eyes fluttered slowly and tried to make sense of where he was. He saw someone sitting beside him, another man sitting on the right side of his legs, and three other men hovering over him. Who they were was mere impossible to determine. He then heard two voices speaking, but could not distinguish the words nor the voices' owners. Where was he? What happened? Who was with him? Hogan closed his eyes and moaned, not knowing what else to do.

"You think he recognizes us?" Carter asked, curious. He was the man sitting beside Hogan's legs.

"I'm not sure he even knows who _he_ is at the moment." Newkirk answered, being the one sitting in the chair.

"Colonel, are you awake?" LeBeau asked softly.

"Men...must...get to...my men." Hogan murmured.

"We're here, Colonel. Just take it easy, Sir," Kinch said calmly.

"Kinch...Carter." The colonel groaned.

"Easy there, Gov'nor. We're all alright, Sir. Just relax." Newkirk answered.

"Take your time, Colonel. We're not going anywhere," Carter said, smiling small.

Hogan moved his head side to side a little more, then stopped and slowly opened his eyes. His sight now focusing, he could see who was there and where he was. He was lying on the cot in the radio room. He had a nice cold washcloth on his forehead helping a growing migraine he had. And his men. All four of them. They sat there smiling and grinning at him. They had their colonel back again, and Hogan had _them_ back again. He smiled meekly, looking at them through slits in his eyes.

"Looks like you're gonna pull through, Sir," Kinch said softly.

"You scared us half to death. We weren't sure if you were gonna wake up again or not." Newkirk answered quietly.

Hogan swallowed, then spoke raspy.

"What happened?"

"You fainted, Colonel," LeBeau said.

"We think your mind had gone into overdrive and finally shut down not being able to handle it any longer." Newkirk added.

"Had enough of what?" Hogan asked.

Kinch grew puzzled and raised an eyebrow. Had his mind forgot what happened being too traumatic for him?

"What do you remember last, Colonel?" The staff sergeant asked.

Hogan closed his eyes and drew in deep breaths. It would not come to him at first, but then it slowly faded in. A man in dark clothing was holding Carter at gunpoint...a Gestapo lieutenant...but he could not see the face. He was screaming and begging for the young man to be released and him to be the one shot instead. Once he finally wailed he was Papa Bear, Carter had been released, and he and Newkirk untied him from the chair he had been imprisoned in. Once he was free...he could not remember after that. Between then and now, everything was a big black gap.

The American officer swallowed before answering.

"Newkirk and Carter untying me...Carter had been at gunpoint by…" Hogan paused, when his eyes moved to the right and saw a Gestapo officer hovering over him. He looked concerned for the American. It was Macher, one of Hochstetter's men. What was _he_ doing here? He nearly killed one of his men! He wanted the man to be gotten rid of immediately.

Hogan's eyes blazed over and fought back from jumping at the man and strangling him.

"Easy, Gov'nor...he's alright, Sir," Newkirk said softly.

"What the hell is _he_ doing here? He nearly kills Carter, and you're letting him run around freely?! Why is he here anyways?!" The colonel instantly regretted raising his voice, when his migraine intensified from the loudness. He clenched his eyes shut, shuddered, then moaned.

"It's alright, buddy. Ben's a good guy." The young sergeant answered.

"He faked the whole thing, Colonel. It was the only way to know for sure you were back again or not," LeBeau said, feeling a tad guilty. The little Frenchman thought it had been them that caused Hogan to now be in his current condition.

"He's one of us, Sir...we kidnapped him in order to get information on you when you worked for Hochstetter. Turns out to not be such a Kraut after all. He wants out of Germany, and we're sending him to London as soon as this whole situation blows over." Newkirk clarified.

"You know...right after Newkirk nearly killed the man." Kinch answered, chuckling.

"You'll never let me live that down, _will_ yah, Kinch." The Englishman growled.

Macher smiled at Hogan's men, then he turned down to look at the colonel himself.

"How are you feeling, Colonel Hogan?" He asked sincerely.

"Tired...why are _you_ against Hochstetter?" Hogan asked, perplexed. Why _had_ Macher become a traitor to begin with? He knew nothing other than that he had been there with his men when he had been kidnapped in the beginning.

The lieutenant let out a heavy sigh and shook his head.

"I do not wish to burden you with such a story in your current condition," he said softly.

"I'll be fine," Hogan said, soft, but firm.

Macher lifted his eyes to the four men who had become his friends in such a short time. Newkirk was the one who answered with a nod.

"He'll be alright, mate. You can tell him."

Nodding back, Macher turned back to Hogan and looked at him again. Hogan gave the lieutenant his undivided attention and calmly waited for him to speak.

The Gestapo officer sighed again, then slowly began his story.


	23. Chapter 23

**Chapter 23:**

"Colonel, at the end of World War I, the Treaty of Versailles crippled Germany's economy greatly as you know. People had lost their homes, their jobs, people were dying from starvation because of all the debt we owed for war damages...all of us thought our country was at its end...it was not until _Herr Hitler_ came to power and overthrew the Weimar Republic did things change for us. Our economy was strong again, we could afford food again, our country had strong leaders and military units again, and _that_ I will always be grateful to Hitler for…" Macher stopped and swallowed. His eyes told there was more, but his face told he wished it had been all.

"What happened after that, mate?" Newkirk asked, worried.

"You look like you just saw a ghost," Kinch said.

"...it was when the Gestapo was born and the genocide began did my loyalty begin to be questioned." The lieutenant answered.

"I take it you didn't have much choice in joining the Gestapo," Hogan said softly.

Macher closed his eyes, let out an uneasy breath, then continued.

"It was late at night back when the Gestapo first came into establishment...they broke into our home…" The young lieutenant began breaking down and crying. "They...killed my wife...they killed my wife." He wept.

Hogan and his men looked at him with sympathy. They had never realized just how much torture and cruelty one of Germany's own had endured. This man had witnessed more fear and bloodshed than Hogan had witnessed in a year since arriving at Stalag 13. The colonel knew how it felt when he thought his men had been killed back in Headquarters, but never did he experience Gestapo men breaking into their barracks and killing his men unexpectedly.

Hogan frowned and looked at the man with sincere empathy.

"I'm sorry, Lieutenant...that must have been awful to witness," he said kindly.

"But _why_?" Carter asked, astonished. _Why would the Gestapo just randomly barge into one's house and kill their wife_ , the young sergeant wondered.

Once Macher collected himself, he continued.

"Elsie apparently had been in connection with several members of the underground. I had not known until later that night. The Gestapo felt she was an enemy and had to be eliminated immediately...I was taken in for questioning, and it was then I met Major Hochstetter."

"I feel sorry you had to _meet_ the man." Newkirk commented.

"What happened after that?" Kinch asked, interested.

"He was cautious at first at where my loyalty lied and with whom. I had to defend myself and chose to act like I was loyal to our _Fuhrer_. Deciding I was no harm to the Third Reich, Hochstetter made me a Gestapo lieutenant and have served under his command ever since. I promised myself, though, that had I'd ever encounter an enemy of Germany on my own, I would never enforce such violent methods on them. The worst I would do is either arrest them or claim they had 'escaped' without my knowledge." Macher answered.

"So why do you hate the Allies then?" LeBeau asked.

"That, Corporal LeBeau, is another story. I was angry with the Allies after they had created the Treaty at the end of World War I. It had crippled and nearly destroyed our country. I thought all members of the Allies were stuck up, arrogant, and thought they were better than everyone else...but I have come to realize my assumptions were wrong. Your colonel is humane, and kind, and forgiving. Kinchloe, you said so yourself, that even with German prisoners, Colonel Hogan did not wish to provoke harm on them nor 'get even' as you would call it," the lieutenant said.

"Yes, you're right," Kinch said softly.

"You four are _also_ not arrogant. You are struggling to survive as much as us against Hitler are...I wish all of us could see it that way. Like I said before, I will always be thankful for Hitler helping our country become strong again...but I can never do more than that. What he is doing is wrong and unthinkable...and that is why I hope Germany loses the war."

Hogan gave a tired smile.

"Don't worry, Lieutenant...we'll make sure that happens...and that you get to London safely and cleared from punishment," he said, raspy.

" _Danke, Herr Colonel_ ," Macher said, with a sad smile.

"Ben…" Carter hesitated with his question. He did not wish to upset the man after everything he had lived through and seen. "You think Elsie would have liked us?"

That question seemed to make the Gestapo officer's eyes twinkle, and his face brightened, too.

"Yes, Sergeant...she would have." He answered sincerely.

"She'll always be with you, mate," Newkirk said friendly.

"And she still will be when you get to London." Kinch added.

"She might even help you find another girl there." Carter replied.

Macher laughed.

"We shall see. I do not plan on marrying anytime soon," he said.

Hogan was fighting to stay awake, but his eyes felt heavy, and his body was worn. His belly and body still ached from all his cuts and bruises endured from Hochstetter and Fritz.

"You alright, Colonel?" LeBeau asked, anxious.

Hogan did not answer. The idea of talking was enough to exhaust him.

"He's had a rough evening, Louis. He'll feel better in the morning." Newkirk answered.

"Will he be okay down here by himself?" Carter questioned, worried.

Macher smiled.

"I'll watch him, Sergeant. If he needs anything, I'll holler." He answered.

"Well, don't holler. Kommandant Klink hears you, we're _all_ in hot water." Kinch replied.

"How do we get the Gov'nor back into camp, though?" Newkirk asked.

"We'll worry about that in the morning. I'm sure our fierce Colonel Hogan will have something in mind," LeBeau said, confident.

"You sure betcha he will!" Carter replied, energized.

After they had all said 'goodnight' to one another, Kinch, Carter, Newkirk, and LeBeau made their way into the barracks for the night, and Macher lay down on the ground beside a sleeping Hogan with a pillow and blanket he had grabbed and waited for darkness to grasp him.

* * *

It was soon morning, and Schultz was banging on the bunks in barracks two and bellowing to get up before anyone knew it.

"Roll call! Everybody up for roll call! Up, up, up, up, up, up, up! Roll call!"

All the men groaned.

"Can't yah ever let us sleep in, Schultzie?" LeBeau groaned, wiping the sand dust from his eyes.

"Ha! Sleeping in in a prison camp! Ha! Jolly joker!" The big sergeant replied.

"Well, I can always dream." The little Frenchman grumbled, sleepy.

"You might wanna keep dreamin then, Louis," Newkirk said, grumpy.

After all the men in barracks two got dressed, they filed out into the morning air and waited for Klink to come out from his office. He finally made his appearance and after getting Schultz's report, he began one of his useless lectures of wanting them all to behave when company arrived. This time, it was Major Bock who would be Klink's expected guest.

"And I want all of you to make sure you are in tip top shape for when Major Bock arrives in a few days. The Gestapo does not approve of misbehaved prisoners of war! Do I make myself clear?!" The kommandant warned.

The fourteen men groaned, but nodded.

"Diiiiissssmiiiiiiisssssed!"

With that, Klink turned on his feet and marched his way back to his office.

The prisoners all left for their normal morning routine, and Hogan's men went back into the barracks and immediately made way for the fake bunk.

"You think Colonel Hogan was alright through the night?" Carter asked, concerned.

"I didn't hear anything from Ben, so it must have gone well." Kinch answered, banging the mechanism.

The fake bunk opened the tunnel entrance, and the four of them one by one made their descent.

"So, what do we do about good ol' Hochstetter then?" Newkirk asked.

"Don't have an idea yet, but he'll get what's coming to him. _That_ I guarantee." The staff sergeant answered.

"I say we kill 'im." LeBeau snarled.

"Why am I not surprised?"

The four made their way to the radio room and were welcomed with the sight they saw. Macher was sitting at the radio table, and Hogan was sitting up against the wall with his hand on his swollen middle smiling. Both were socializing with one another, and the American officer looked healthy and back to himself again.

Not helping himself, Carter dashed from the group and hurried to Hogan's side. When he got there, he automatically reached out and hugged the colonel.

Not able to help himself, Hogan chuckled and gave the young man a hug back.

"Good to see you, too, Carter," he said friendly.

"Well all be. Who ever said 'a little bit of sleep can't help anybody'?" Newkirk remarked, grinning.

"Any trouble during the night, Ben?" Kinch asked.

"Slept like a baby." The lieutenant answered.

"Gov'nor, it's as if yah never went there in the first place," Newkirk said.

"You look wonderful, Colonel." LeBeau beamed.

The colonel laughed softly.

"Rather be told that than otherwise," he said.

"Alright, Sir. How do yah want Hochstetter and Fritz to die?" Newkirk snarled, punching his left hand.

"I say we throw them into a river and drown them!" LeBeau replied, devious.

Hogan's expression changed from friendly to frightening and glared at both of his men. Seeing his expression, both the Frenchman and the Englishman slouched and cleared their throats.

"Or we could just...not kill them." Newkirk replied meekly.

Hogan nodded.

"Good boy," he said, stern.

"Whatever we do, we'll have to plan it carefully. You heard Klink; Major Bock will be here in three days for an update on the Colonel's 'kidnapping'." Kinch answered, crossing his arms.

"Major Bock," Hogan said, thinking to himself. "Wasn't he that SS major that caught Newkirk on not being a real traitor of the Allies to get into that counterfeit money scheme they were trying to hide here in camp?"

"You remember the bloody man all too well, Sir. Decided to get into the investigation business when the fake money bit failed miserably and joined the Gestapo." Newkirk replied.

The colonel let out a sigh while he was still thinking.

"Thought I'd never hear that name again after that." He answered.

"Guess again, Colonel," LeBeau said sadly.

"Boy, is he sure serious on consequences for your kidnapper, Colonel. Why, I think he's planned just about every worse thing imaginable." Carter chimed in.

"Can we get _him_ to kill Hochstetter?"

Hogan gave the little Frenchman a warning stare.

"LeBeau…"

"You said _we_ couldn't kill him."

The colonel's glare remained fixed.

The little Frenchman sighed.

"Fine...no killing, Colonel," he said sadly.

"Major Karsten Bock you say?" Macher asked, curious. (1)

"The one and only," Newkirk said, certain.

"Why do you ask?" Kinch asked, suspicious.

"I've met him...he is not one to be fooled easily. Several of the men under his command have gone missing whenever one of them upsets or displeases him." The Gestapo lieutenant answered.

"That's what we heard the night we went out and kidnapped yah." Newkirk replied.

"Where do you think they went?" Carter asked.

All of the men turned to the young man and looked at him as if the answer was obvious.

Carter shrugged his shoulders to make him appear smaller. The staring was making him self conscious.

"What?" He asked softly.

Hogan turned his head from Carter to Macher.

"You said you know him?" The colonel questioned.

" _Ja,_ Colonel, but not much. I have only met him once."

"You could be an advantage to us against him."

"What are you thinking, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.

"Not much at the moment...wait a minute...what kidnapping?" Hogan just realized that his men kept referring to a kidnapping involving him. What did they mean by it?

"Guess we should clarify for you, Sir." Newkirk answered.

"When we thought you had died in the plane going down that night, Colonel, in order to keep Klink out of any trouble, we faked a kidnapping to keep Klink's perfect record intact. Newkirk wrote a fake ransom note, and Major Bock was sent from Berlin to investigate the situation. He's never had an unsolved case you know," Carter said.

"I did _not_ know that," Hogan said. "What happened after that?"

"We were later informed by Gilbert that you were being held prisoner in Headquarters and immediately tried to get you out of there...only we were too late when we got there. Gilbert warned us to get out of the building, saying you snapped and had gone mad...we didn't know _what_ to do, Colonel."

"Wait a minute... _Captain_ Gilbert Beckenbauer? Of Gestapo?" Macher gasped.

"A loyal agent to the underground." Kinch answered.

"Are there others that work in Headquarters?"

"Just him...I guess we could consider you another, though."

"I never would have thought otherwise. The captain and I have been good friends for many years. I never suspected him of such a thing once."

"He's a good actor, mate," Newkirk said, grinning.

"I'm assuming the Lieutenant came into the picture shortly after you guys found out I was alive." Hogan prodded.

"Yes, Sir...we kidnapped him to get information on what Hochstetter had done to you while being a prisoner," Kinch said.

Carter shuddered and shook his head.

"It shouldn't have been you, Colonel...I wish it would have been _me_ in that cell instead of you...you didn't deserve it. After everything you've done for so many people, you're the _last_ person that should have been in that cell." The young sergeant quivered. It still broke his heart knowing what his beloved commanding officer had to go through and suffered under Hochstetter. He vowed ever since encountering Hogan that day in Klink's office that he would get payback on the Gestapo major if it was the last thing he ever did.

Hogan gave a gentle smile at the young man.

"Carter, I don't want _anyone_ to go through what I went through. Had it been one of you instead, I don't think I would have ever forgiven myself for allowing one of you to go through so much trauma." He answered kindly.

"You didn't deserve it, though!"

"Bloody bastards, I want Hochstetter to _pay_ for what he did to you, Gov!" Newkirk snarled.

"Hochstetter and Fritz will get what's coming to them, I assure you that," Macher said, firm. He too wanted to see the major and his partner suffer for what they had done to a nice man like Hogan was. He wanted revenge for the death of his wife and for being forced into a lifestyle he would never be forgiven for by the rest of the world. "First, we must think of a feasible plan."

"Which is?" LeBeau asked.

"I have one in mind, but not all the details in order yet." Hogan answered.

"What is it, Sir?" Kinch asked, intrigued.

The colonel sighed heavily. He knew what he had next to say would not set well with any of his men, but it was the only way to get him back into camp.

"I have to go back to Hochstetter," he said.

"NO!" All of his men cried.

"You can't!" LeBeau exclaimed.

"We just got you back!" Carter wailed.

Hogan smirked softly.

"I'll be alright. Hochstetter and Fritz still think I'm a loyal member of the Third Reich. He and I originally had planned on coming out here to Stalag 13 for me to expose the operation to him. He'll probably make his way out here anyways to investigate the area and make sure I either haven't gone against him or that someone had kidnapped me for some type of trade." He turned to his British corporal. "Newkirk, I'm gonna need you to back talk Hochstetter and/or Fritz. It'll get the captain to take you at gunpoint."

"He's bloody balmy!" The Englishman cried.

"Just hear me out, now." Hogan continued. "When Newkirk's at gunpoint, the rest of you will beg me to do something and snap out of the mindset I had originally gone under the Gestapo. I'll take a few moments to decide, then I'll shoot Fritz to save you, Newkirk."

"You're gonna kill Captain Fritz?" Carter gasped.

"I _have_ to, Carter. It's the only way I'll get back into camp. Hochstetter will then see that he was wrong about me, leave me to Klink's disposal, then our old Bald Eagle will report to Major Bock it was Hochstetter who had kidnapped me this entire time...then our short little Major will find himself in a very 'sticky wicket' as Newkirk puts it." Hogan answered. He grinned saying the last part.

"You think it'll work, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.

The colonel raised an eyebrow.

"Have I ever lied to you men?" He replied.

The little Frenchman smiled and shook his head.

" _Non, Colonel_ ," he said softly.

"When do we do it, Sir?" Newkirk asked, a bit worried.

"Hochstetter will be here later today. We start our plan at 1800 hours. Lieutenant, you'll have to stay down here for safety precautions. If you're caught above ground, your life will also become in danger." Hogan replied.

" _Jawohl, Herr Colonel_. I shall do as you order me so," Macher said respectfully.

"Then it's settled," Hogan said. "Tonight...I come home to Stalag 13.

* * *

(1) Major Bock was never given a first name in the show, so I gave him the name of Karsten.


	24. Chapter 24

**Chapter 24:**

Around 5:30 that night, Hogan had put back on his Gestapo colonel's uniform and stood in the radio room with his men debriefing the plan over again. Macher and Hogan's men seemed a bit on edge over this plan, and the colonel himself could sense it within them.

"Alright," he said, while adjusting his belt around his middle. "Newkirk, what are you doing once you guys confront Hochstetter and Fritz?"

"Make a snarky comment to Hochstetter and be held at gunpoint by Fritz." The Englishman answered.

"Good. Once I leave the tunnel, give me a half hour before you guys come out and see what's going on. I'll claim an underground agent kidnapped me for trading reasons, but I got away when he was least expecting it."

All four of his men, plus Macher, nodded.

Hogan picked up on their fear and smiled softly.

"I'm gonna be alright. Don't worry," he said friendly.

"We don't wanna lose you again, Sir." Carter answered meekly.

" _Forever_ this time." LeBeau added.

"It's all gonna be okay. I'll get back into camp, Hochstetter gets what he deserves, and Macher will be on his way to safety before we know it." The colonel replied, with optimism.

"You sure, Colonel?" Carter asked.

Hogan's grin grew wider.

"I'm sure, Carter," was his answer.

The young sergeant returned a soft smile and nodded.

"Good," he said.

Hogan nodded, then started making his way out.

"I'll see you guys in a little bit." He told them.

"Good luck, Colonel," LeBeau said.

"We're rooting for yah, Sir." Newkirk added.

"Same goes for you guys," the colonel said, and without another word, he made his trek towards the emergency entrance, leaving his men behind once again.

When he was out of sight, Hogan's men and Macher tensed up again out of anxiety and the chill of fear running up and down their spines.

"Oh, I don't like this." LeBeau moaned.

"You and me are in the same boat, mate." Newkirk replied.

"He will be alright," Macher said, hopeful. "Your colonel is a good man and very smart."

"That might be, _mon ami_ , but the filthy bosche might catch onto us quickly." The little Frenchman remarked, weary.

"What if something goes wrong, and one of us are shot for real?" Carter asked, worrisome.

"Don't worry, Carter. Colonel Hogan knows what he's doing. He's never steered us wrong before, and he won't do it now," Kinch said.

"I sure hope you're right, Kinch. 'Cause if you're not, we'll lose the Gov'nor again...for _good_!" Newkirk replied, uneasy.

* * *

As Klink was leaving his office to go out for dinner, a black Gestapo car pulled into camp and parked alongside the Kommandantur. The colonel gulped, praying it was not who he thought it was. Sadly, his nightmare had become reality, and Hochstetter and Fritz stepped out of the vehicle and made their way up to him.

"Major Hochstetter...I was not expecting you!" Klink gasped.

"We were not expecting to drop by _either_ , Klink." Hochstetter began. "Colonel Hogan has gone missing."

"I know; he is with you...I've said nothing to Major Bock." The last part the kommandant trembled.

"I mean he is missing _again_! He did not show up for work this morning...suspicious, Klink?"

"He's gone... _again_?...But, where did he go?"

"I would like to know that answer _myself_ , Klink...I have patrols searching for him in this area as we speak. You wouldn't have happened to see him recently, have you?"

Hochstetter made himself closer towards the shivering colonel to appear more dominant. He highly expected Hogan to be somewhere in this camp and possibly returning to the enemy forces against Germany. If it were true, he would kill the American on spot.

"Major Hochstetter, I have not seen Colonel Hogan since he came in with you and Captain Fritz last week." Klink answered honestly.

"And another thing that I find suspicious. Lieutenant Macher, one of my men, has been missing for over six days now...perhaps being hidden somewhere _in this camp_!" The short major hissed.

"Had one of your men entered into my camp, Major, I assure you his presence would be fully acknowledged."

"Then where do _you_ think he went off to?"

Klink swallowed a growing knot in his throat and started shaking harder. He knew quite well he was under high suspicion of the disappearance of two of the Major's officers, but honestly did not know where either of them were or would have gone. He had never even _heard_ of a Lieutenant Macher until now, and as for Hogan, he did not even know _him_ any longer. _His_ Hogan was gone. _Hochstetter's_ Hogan he was still trying to understand. And there was the remaining question that kept gnawing at him day and night: what had caused Hogan to become a loyal Nazi in the _first_ place?

"I...I...Major Hochstetter, I…" Klink was about to answer, when a faint cry could be heard out in the horizon. "What was that?"

Hochstetter and Fritz turned around to look in the direction Klink was, and their eyes nearly fell out of their head.

Running down the hill outside the front gate, a scatterbrained Hogan was rushing towards his commanding officer, his fellow co. worker, and his past camp kommandant. His uniform was a bit dusty, and there were a few tears in his Gestapo jacket.

The guards opened the gates for the colonel, and Hogan made his way towards the group of German officers. Once he did, he gave a strong salute to his commander and made his way next to him.

" _Herr Major_ , Fritz...Kommandant Klink." He greeted.

"Where have you been, Hogan? And _why_ is your uniform all torn and dusty?" Hochstetter ordered.

"Forgive me, _Herr Major_ , but someone from the underground kidnapped me on my way home from work two nights ago. It took lots of strategics, but I finally managed to get away from him and make my way back to you, Sir." The colonel answered, out of breath.

"The underground!" Klink cried.

"Who was this man?" Hochstetter asked, intrigued.

"I couldn't tell you. He wore a mask the entire time to conceal his identity. Quite clever may I add, but he was no match for me. As soon as I found opportunity, I struck at him. Poor man will never know what hit him." Hogan cackled menacingly.

"Filthy swine! Major, we must track this man down!" Fritz spat, appalled.

"We will, Captain, we will. Now that we have found Colonel Hogan, we can begin our investigation." Hochstetter answered.

"Investigation?" The kommandant quivered.

"Yes, Klink. I suspect a secret operation running beneath this camp right under your nose. Colonel Hogan has an idea on where we might find it."

"A secret operation." Klink started laughing like an idiot, then snapped back into a serious manor. "That's ridiculous!"

It was at that moment that the door to barracks two opened, and Hogan's men came out with a football pretending to start a game. They acted as if Hochstetter's arrival had been unexpected and, 'curious' as always, made their way over to the four officers.

"What's going on here, Kommandant?" Kinch asked, surprised.

"I thought you said the dogs were left in the kennel unless an attempt at escaping." LeBeau commented.

"Cockroach, how dare you say such things to us Germans...especially to the _Gestapo_!" Klink warned, shaking from fear.

Hogan chuckled and looked down at his men.

"They're just jealous is all, Kommandant. Nothing more than rodents under our care." He spoke, cynical.

"I used to look _up_ to you, Colonel. You're nothing but a fake!" The little Frenchman hissed.

"The real Colonel Hogan would have _never_ spoke so poorly of other people this way." Carter remarked, ashamed.

"I _told_ you men already Colonel Robert Hogan of the United States Army Air Corps is dead. It's _Gestapo_ Colonel Robert Hogan now." The American officer replied.

"You're nothing more than one of _them_ now!" Newkirk snarled. "You're a filthy, dirty Kraut!"

Fritz lurked slowly towards the Englishman, almost zombie like, and once getting close, took Newkirk by surprise and pointed a pistol near the right side of his head automatically. Fritz snarled, then turned to his commander.

" _Herr Major_ , let me kill him. He doesn't _deserve_ to live!" The captain spat.

"Do something, Kommandant!" Carter cried.

"Order for Pierre to be released!" LeBeau vociferated.

"Major Hochstetter, release my prisoner immediately... _please_?" Klink shuddered. He had to do something to save the man. He was his prisoners' only source of protection now that Hogan was gone...but what could he do without giving away his real beliefs regarding Nazi Germany?

"Colonel, _do_ something!" Kinch begged.

"Please, Colonel! You're our only hope!" Carter cried.

"I know you're in there, Colonel! Come back to us!" LeBeau pleaded.

Hogan looked at Newkirk. His British corporal was fighting back from trembling, but some of it was beginning to surface. He then turned his eyes to Hochstetter. The Gestapo major was grinning from ear to ear, excited to see one from the enemy's side eliminated. It would mean less work for Germany to win the war. Hogan turned back to Newkirk, who was looking at his once commanding officer with his eyes filled with mercy.

"Please, Gov'nor...I _know_ you're still in there somewhere!" He quivered.

Hogan looked back to Hochstetter. The major was fighting back evil laughs of victory and joy. The colonel turned his attention once more back to Newkirk. Sensing his life was finished, he managed to croak his last words to Fritz.

"Just do it quickly, Captain."

At that moment, Hogan then remembered how this had started in the first place. He was back in that small and dark Gestapo jail cell and being tortured by Hochstetter and Fritz. He cried out in pain, he screamed for mercy, remembering how he had felt when he thought he had been responsible for the death of his men. It was at that moment he realized who he truly was and what he stood for. He was United States Army Air Corps Colonel Robert Hogan. He was an Allied officer fighting for freedom and equality. He believed in kindness and humanity, not violence and hate. It was others that he valued more to him than his own life. It was those he loved that mattered to him most.

Hogan's eyes darted to his right briefly to look at Hochstetter, then he snapped out his pistol and fired it at Fritz. The bullet hit the captain in the chest, making him cry out, then he fell to the ground silently. He had died within moments. Once he had fallen to the ground, Newkirk sighed with relief.

"Thank you, bloody God." He murmured.

The Gestapo major's face quickly turned red and looked at Hogan. The colonel had gone back to the enemy and betrayed the German Forces.

Hogan put away his gun and turned to look at Newkirk with sincere concern for his safety.

"You alright, Newkirk?" He asked.

The English corporal smiled, his eyes twinkling bright. It was official: his colonel had come home.

"I'm fine _now_ , Sir," he said, beaming.

Hogan gave a soft smile back at him and nodded.

"Good," was his answer.

Hochstetter snarled, then pulled out his gun and shot Hogan in the upper abdomen. The colonel yelped, grabbed his belly with his left hand, then he collapsed to the ground.

"NO!" All four of his men cried.

"I _knew_ he would never switch sides!" Hochstetter spat.

The major darted towards his victim and once approaching him, looked down at him and pointed his pistol in the direction of Hogan's head. He was going to put an end to this man once and for all, discover his assumed 'operation' in camp, and finally be recognized after all this time he had been right. Maybe even earn a promotion, but justice was what he wanted.

Hogan was giving labored breaths and seemed to be having trouble breathing. His eyes were clenched shut, and he shuddered as waves of pain overtook his body.

"Kommandant, help!" Carter cried.

"Don't let him kill _mon Colonel_!" LeBeau begged.

"Your kommandant can't save your Senior Officer _now_ , gentlemen! This man dies immediately!" Hochstetter hissed.

"And _you_ , I am putting under _arrest_ immediately." A familiar pretentious and lilt voice spoke from behind.

The short major gulped and began to shiver.

"Major Bock!" He gasped.

"Indeed, _Herr Major_ ," Bock said.

Klink and Hochstetter turned to look at the man. The Gestapo major sent from Berlin was holding a revolver with two Gestapo sergeants standing close behind him. They too were holding firearms pointed at Hochstetter. Hogan's men were already hurrying to their commander's side the minute the attention from Hogan had been replaced, and two of Klink's guards were already carrying off the body of Fritz away to the infirmary.

"I did not suspect that _you_ would be the man we are looking for." Bock continued.

The kommandant quickly made his way down the stairs and approached both Gestapo men.

"Major Bock! I was not expecting you until Thursday night!" Klink spoke, surprised. The man was wide-eyed.

"I decided to make my trip here early, Klink. My instincts were right to come when I did." Bock replied. His attention was set completely on Hochstetter and making sure the short major made no sudden movements.

Carter and LeBeau were on Hogan's left, and Kinch and Newkirk on the right. The British man grabbed the colonel's right hand and held it within his.

"Hold on, Colonel. Keep fighting for a little longer." Kinch urged.

The only response he got was gasps from excruciating pain and discomfort. Hogan had begun to sweat from how bad his wound hurt. After a few more gasps of air, he opened his eyes just barely and looked at his second in command.

"Kinch...take good care...of them." He shuddered. He closed his eyes and began gasping for air again.

"You'll be able to do that yourself, Sir. You've gotta hold on just a little bit longer, Colonel," was Kinch's response.

"Don't leave us, Colonel. We just got you back!" LeBeau begged.

Carter was closing his eyes tight to fight back from crying and was saying a silent pray to God while doing so.

"You keep fighting, Gov'nor. We're getting you help as soon as we can!" Newkirk choked, with emotion.

" _Herr Major_ , that man is a criminal! He is hiding a sabotage operation somewhere in this camp, responsible for the disappearance of one of my officers, and has now committed a homicide to one of my men!" Hochstetter retorted.

"I am more concerned with _you_ , Major, and your wild assumptions. You have snuck into a prisoner of war camp without detection from any guards, managed to kidnap the Senior POW, and have shared undisclosed information with the enemy. Berlin will be very interested with this report." Bock replied calmly.

"I demand this man to be executed immediately!"

" _That_ you will have to take up with Berlin on. My orders were to find Colonel Hogan and bring him back to Stalag 13 under Colonel Klink's command. You have made my assignment quite easy, Major. How long did you expect me to not find out you were his captor?"

"I did _not_ kidnap him! He was brought to me in Headquarters by my men!"

"Who are your witnesses left? One of your men is dead and the other one is currently MIA. Explain yourself."

"Hogan is responsible for _all_ of this! I demand him be shot and serve his sentence!"

"It looks like you already _have_ shot Colonel Hogan. I do not see reason for him to be shot _again_." Bock sneered. "Major Hochstetter, you are under arrest for abducting a Senior POW from camp without permission nor awareness and the higher charge of exchanging military information with an enemy officer." He turned to face the two sergeants. "Gentlemen, escort Major Hochstetter to the car and handcuff him. If he tries anything, your orders are to shoot. Spare his life if possible, or else do otherwise."

" _Jawohl, Herr Major_ ," One of the sergeants said.

"Oh, and Major," Bock said coolly.

"What?" Hochstetter retorted.

"Those secret military plans of the Allies Colonel Hogan gave you. They're fake."

"What plans?" Klink asked, dumbfounded.

With no one watching, Hogan's men all sighed with relief. The Allies were still at their advantage.

"Fake!" The short major spat.

"There _is_ no Operation Boogie Woogie the Allies have planned. Colonel Hogan must have made faulty military plans while you were not looking and claimed that they were the real thing." Bock chuckled softly. "Some Gestapo major."

Hochstetter's face turned a bright red and shook his fist in the air above him.

"BAH!" He hollered.

With that, Bock's men handcuffed the short man, then shoved him inside the vehicle the three of them had come in. Seeing his men did not need any further assistance, Bock turned to Klink and slightly cocked his head to the side.

"I _told_ you, Kommandant; I _never_ have an unsolved case in my record," the major said quietly.

Klink shook his head rapidly.

"Yes, Major Bock. _Never_." He replied, holding back anxiety.

The major saluted Klink, then stepped into his car and took off with his men and Hochstetter back to Berlin.

Once the Gestapo car was out of sight, Klink hurried to Hogan and his men. His face was filled with concern and worry.

"How is he?" He asked sincerely.

"He needs a doctor _now_!" Newkirk remarked, a bit snippy.

"Kommandant, he'll _die_ if he doesn't get to a hospital soon!" Kinch answered, a bit anxious.

"I'm calling the hospital immediately," Klink said. He turned down to look at Hogan once more. "Don't worry, Hogan. You'll be better before you know it." With that, the German colonel turned on his boot and made his way back into his office.

Hogan's men turned their attention back to their commander. His breathing was getting faster, but softer. Soon enough, Hogan's gasping stopped, and he fell silent.

"No, Colonel, no! Don't leave us, Colonel, _please_!" Carter begged.

"Come on, Gov'nor. Wake up, Sir! Come back to us, Sir!" Newkirk exclaimed.

No response came. Hogan had slipped into a world filled of silence and nothing but black surrounding him.


	25. Chapter 25

**A/N:** This is the end, folks. Thank you again for the kind reviews and useful tips to make my writing better. I hope you have enjoyed this story and will be back soon with another one. Enjoy the last chapter of 'Hogan's Heroes: A Demon From Beneath'! :)

* * *

 **Chapter 25:**

The next time Hogan opened his eyes, he was lying in a bed in a hospital room. His eyes fluttered open slowly and took in his surroundings. Nothing but an average hospital room. The walls were light blue and white. There was a bathroom, a curtain separating part of the room from sight, a nightstand and table on his left and next to that sat a chair. There was a window to the left of him and saw that it was nighttime.

He was drained of energy, fought to stay awake, and find out what happened. He had oxygen assistance in his nose helping him breathe, an IV in his left hand, and a hospital bracelet on his right hand. His belly felt tight and swollen. He turned to look down at his middle, and it felt like it was bandaged tight. He must of had surgery, he thought to himself. He rubbed his belly gently, then turned his head to the right and closed his eyes. He was about to fall back to sleep, when he heard the doorknob to his room 'click' and woke back up to see who it was.

The door slowly opened, and Dr. Richard Klaussner, loyal member of the underground and fellow friend, made his way silently inside. He closed the door behind him without a noise and once catching sight that Hogan was awake, he gave a soft grin.

"Well...good evening there. I was wondering when you were going to wake up," The old man said friendly.

The colonel swallowed to moisten his dry throat.

"What happened?" Hogan croaked, raspy.

"You took a pretty nice bullet to your diaphragm. There was lots of bleeding that needed to be stopped before I could repair the wound itself. It'll be a bit difficult to breathe for a little while yet. That's why you have the oxygen assistance. It'll feel fairly tight inside your stomach while breathing in for about two weeks or so."

" _That's_ why it feels so tight." Hogan rubbed his belly again.

"That, and it is tightly bandaged to protect the stitching from your operation."

The American closed his eyes and let out a soft breath. Once he had done so, Hogan opened his eyes again and looked at his old and close friend.

"Richard...can I see my men? I need to tell them how sorry I am...for _all_ of this." He voice was tired and guilt ridden.

The old man smiled warmly.

"I don't think that will be a problem, Robert." He made his way towards the door and sensed something funny. He swung his leg back and kicked the door hard. The next thing he heard was a choir of voices cry 'Ow!'

"You men eavesdrop worse than the Gestapo," Klaussner called, through the door.

"I wouldn't mention that word if I were you, Richard. LeBeau here is a bit fired up about them at the moment." Kinch's voice replied, muffled.

"It ain't just him, mate. Next time I see one of them Krauts, I'm killing them regardless!" Newkirk spat.

Klaussner shook his head softly and turned his eyes to the ceiling. He opened the door and let Hogan's men file in. Seeing their commander awake, the four of them smiled and made their way towards him. Carter took off from them and hurried towards Hogan, then hugged him gently.

The colonel gave a faint smile and patted his back gently.

The young sergeant sat down in the chair on Hogan's left, Newkirk sat by Hogan's legs on the same side, and Kinch and LeBeau joined them and stood.

Klaussner's smile brightened.

"I'll leave you men alone," he said softly, and quietly made his way outside in the hall.

The four men before the colonel turned to face him and smiled boldly.

"How are you feeling, Colonel?" LeBeau asked.

"Very sore and sleepy." Hogan answered, drowsy.

"We were worried there for quite a bit, Sir. We thought it was over," Kinch said softly.

"I _should've_ died...after everything I put you men through...after everything I said and did...I'll never forgive myself...what I did was treason." Hogan closed his eyes and shook his head gently. He was ashamed of himself. He had gone to the enemy side. He had exploited top secret military plans for the Allies and might have cost them a huge loss in the war. He threatened to kill his own friends and many more innocent lives he worked with on a daily basis. How could he possibly continue as Papa Bear? He wanted to be sent home and serve his court martial as deserved for everything he had done.

"Ah, Colonel. Don't be so hard on yourself." Kinch replied, with sympathy.

"It was that filthy bosche, Hochstetter's fault." LeBeau hissed.

"Bloody bastard." Newkirk growled.

"It wasn't your fault, Colonel. What Hochstetter and Fritz did to you was unspeakable. We know you didn't mean it...it wasn't even _you_ , Sir. It was a different, scary man that did it. Not you." Carter added friendly.

"I gave away important military plans...I betrayed my country...I betrayed London...I betrayed all of you." Hogan felt tears welling in his eyes. He hated himself for what had happened to him. He should have been stronger than he allowed. He was disgusted with himself. He felt that his men should have been screaming and barking at him right now instead of sitting with him and telling him how much they missed him.

Newkirk could not help but laugh at his commander's response.

"Oh, Gov'nor...you gave Hochstetter anything _but_ secret military plans."

Hogan looked at them suspicious and a bit confused.

"What do you mean 'anything but secret military plans'?" He questioned.

"The plans you stole from White Rabbit. They were fake. The real ones are still with him." Kinch answered, grinning.

"You failed the Krauts the entire time, Sir. Our operation is safe, and so are you." Newkirk added.

"I failed them?" The colonel asked. He was beginning to form a smile. It was the first and only time he would ever be joyous for failing an assignment.

" _Big time_. You actually made it _worse_ for the Krauts. While they were waiting for the Allies to fly over the middle of the forest where they were in hiding, the Allies in actuality were flying in the complete opposite direction of them and eliminated the demolition factory without anyone guarding it." Kinch reported.

"You helped us the entire time, and we didn't even know it until now," LeBeau said, smiling.

Hogan smiled tiredly, and it took all of his strength to stop himself from laughing. After all this time and thinking he had put everyone and everything he cared for in jeopardy, he had helped London the entire time. He had fooled the Germans, lead them away from where they needed to be, and made the war effort that much harder on the enemy.

"Looks like Colonel Hogan was there the entire time, and all of us were completely unaware of it," Carter said softly.

"I _knew_ the Gov'nor would never betray us. Just took a little bit to get him to come back was all." Newkirk remarked.

"So, you guys aren't mad at me?" Hogan asked meekly.

"If anything, we are _proud_ of you, Colonel!" LeBeau replied, strong.

"You truly are the strongest person we have ever known. Right, guys," Kinch said.

All of them nodded in agreement.

Hogan closed his eyes and felt at peace. He had his men back. He had his operation back. He was home.

The five of them were about to start a new conversation, when the door to Hogan's room opened, and a beautiful yet familiar looking woman with shoulder length blonde hair, wearing a black jacket with a fur collar and wool mittens, and had the most prettiest dark blue eyes ran inside.

"Robert!" She cried, with tears streaming down her face. It was Tiger. The underground agent hurried to the colonel's right side, wrapped her arms around his neck, and kissed his cheek, making Hogan smirk.

"Now I _know_ I'm home." He grumbled, his eyes closed.

Tiger sat down beside Hogan's legs and looked into his eyes lovingly.

"I thought I would never see you again." She trembled.

"I must be a cat with nine lives, then...make that about four lives left."

Tiger giggled softly and wiped her eyes.

Kinch smiled and started for the door with Carter and LeBeau.

"We'll leave you two alone for a little while. Come on, guys," he said.

"Yeah, we'll catch up with you later," Newkirk said, waving them off.

LeBeau grabbed the English corporal by the shirt collar and pulled him out of the room with them.

Once out of the room, Tiger and Hogan turned to look at one another again, smiled, then softly kissed one another. Yep, he thought. He was certainly home again.

* * *

Months passed, and soon it was the beginning of October. The weather was still nice and summer-like outside most of the time. Hogan was still healing a bit from his gunshot wound to the diaphragm, but was back to running the operation and doing his duties as Senior POW Officer of Stalag 13.

Macher had safely arrived in London a few days after Hogan was admitted into the hospital for his injuries. He was now working with British Intelligence and also held position as a German decoder aiding the Allies in the war.

While Hogan was resting in the barracks, Carter, LeBeau, and Newkirk were outside throwing baseball pitches and tossing them back to one another in front of Klink's office. Kinch was sitting on the bench outside the barracks resting under the sunshine's warm rays.

Carter was throwing the ball into his glove a few times, warming up his arm for Newkirk. Deciding they wanted to make the game a bit more interesting, the three men decided to add some defense into the game.

LeBeau was guarding Carter, and once warmed up, the sergeant was struggling to find an easy way to make the pass to Newkirk.

The British corporal moved over a bit and found an opening to catch the ball.

"Andrew! Pass it here, mate!" Newkirk cried.

Seeing him out of the corner of his eye, Carter with all his might threw the ball high over LeBeau's head, and all three of their eyes followed it as it soared high in the sky and crashed onto the roof of the Kommandantur's. It rolled down the tilt and stopped, when it got stuck in the gutter at the roof's edge.

The little Frenchman turned his head towards the young sergeant and glared at him.

" _Nice_ ," he said, sour. " _Now_ what?"

"Gee...sorry for trying to get the ball to the other person." Carter remarked, with a bit of irritation.

Newkirk raised his eyebrow, turned to face the roof where the ball was, nodded, then turned to look back at his friends.

"I think I've got an idea," he said.

* * *

"Aw, my back!" Carter whimpered. He was cringing at the intense pain he felt running up and down his spine. The sergeant was on all fours on the ground with LeBeau on all fours on top of him, and Newkirk standing on top of the little Frenchman reaching up and trying to grab the baseball stuck on the roof.

"Pierre, hurry it up, would you? I'm starting to lose feeling in my shoulder!" LeBeau moaned. He winced at the exceptional amount of weight being put on him.

"I've almost got it, Louis. Just give me a minute." Newkirk remarked.

Another whimper escaped out of Carter's mouth.

"My back's gonna give out in a minute, guys." He quivered.

"I've...almost...got it!" Newkirk grunted. He was reaching his arm out towards the ball and was having great difficulty not having his arm be a few inches longer. In an attempt to try and make his reach a bit less hard, he lifted one of his legs up and tried standing on his tip toes to give himself a boost.

"Awhg!" LeBeau and Carter cried.

"Lose some weight, Pierre!" The little Frenchman cried.

"Ah, sod off!" Newkirk snapped back. He went back to focusing on his target.

Kinch made his way over from the barracks, saw the three of them on top of each other, and grew concerned. He raised his eyebrow, then made his eyes up to the top.

"What are you doing?" The leading sergeant asked, suspicious.

"Carter threw the baseball up on the roof, and I'm trying to reach it. I almost have it." Newkirk grimaced again while trying to extend his arm to the extreme.

The poor young sergeant on bottom finally could not stand it any longer, his back giving out, and collapsed to the ground with an 'oompf'!

LeBeau and Newkirk, waving his arms to try and balance, toppled over onto the ground screaming and landed with a thud. The Englishman fell on his back, and the Frenchman fell onto his right side.

"Are you guys alright?" Kinch asked, worried.

"Just peachy, _mon ami_." LeBeau answered, irritable. He groaned, rolled over onto his stomach, and propped himself up with his elbows to try and collect himself.

Hearing the noise, Hogan hurried out of the barracks and ran over towards his men while holding his middle.

"Is everyone alright?" He asked, anxious.

"They're fine, Colonel. Just being their usual goofball selves." Kinch answered, shaking his head.

"We wouldn't have fell had it not been for Andrew here." Newkirk scowled, now sitting up and his right arm wrapped around his leg.

"I told you two my back was gonna give out." Carter grumbled.

"Well," LeBeau said. " _That_ ball's not coming back down."

Hogan lowered his head and chuckled.

"I'm just glad none of you are hurt." The colonel answered, smiling.

"Does my dignity count?" Carter replied, meek.

Hogan put a hand on his hip and shook his head. He turned to look at all of them, and his face became more serious.

"You'll have to put your game on hold for later anyways. London just called. We've got a new assignment." He spoke softly.

Forgetting all about what had just happened, Newkirk, Carter, and LeBeau quickly got to their feet and surrounded their commander with Kinch.

"What is it, Gov?" Newkirk asked, eager.

"Do we get to eliminate one of the filthy bosche?!" LeBeau cried, with excitement.

"Oh boy, I sure hope I get to blow something up!" Carter cheered softly.

Hogan gave another laugh.

"Come on in, and I'll tell you guys more," was his answer.

The five of them started heading in, when Carter stopped them.

"Hey, Colonel?"

Hogan turned to his youngest team member.

"What did Major Bock end up doing with Hochstetter?"

Kinch smiled softly.

"Hochstetter won't be bothering us for a while, Andrew. Berlin has him on special assignment stationed in Dusseldorf. If he even _tries_ to leave and come near this camp, General Burkhalter has orders for patrols around here to shoot and kill."

"Couldn't have happened to a nicer guy." Newkirk grinned.

"Alright, guys. Get in here," Hogan said friendly.

They all gathered inside the barracks, and Hogan closed the door as he explained their next project.

* * *

The End :)


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